Chapter Three, A Child is Born
Summer, 13th of Solsheathe, 1309 CE
Delphine ambled about the upper pathways of the sanctum, absently admiring the walls & sculptures of the majestic structure in comforting touch. She regarded the finesse with which the ancient builders poured sweat into lasting stone of this haven, tucked away by the Moribond mountains. Every etching teemed with the pulse of those masons who dedicated innumerable years to granting form to this house of grace. A sprite of tranquility hovered in the atmosphere of early morn. Yet, though she permitted herself to bask in fleet serenity, a spirit of storm readied to be born here upon consecrated ground.
At first, she’d been as that distant hummingbird, chirping thankful tune for the earth & for Gaahl; flapping gratitude’s wings over secret basilica & its servants, granted to raise the god seed. But now, stretching to encompass the atoms of this shrine’s matter, Delphine felt the rippling of imminent thunder. Azarra’s groaning anguish echoed through marble, bouncing off the mirrors & warping through crystals affixed to the throat of the main tower.
As the expertise of Sage Ydriz and Albrecht the Younger toiled to ease the coming of this gale from the nether, Delphine afforded herself a solitary pace to recenter her faith. To fend off the fears threatening to creep through the cracks in inner wall, those seeping anxieties spawned of the awareness of being poised cubits from the pit & hurtling to unknown end. Though she felt shudders of shame for not being by Azarra’s side in this heaving strife, the sight of blood gushing from her imagining sealed off her steps. Waiting outside until the babe’s arrival which, from the unbroken turbulence exuding of the chamber, that may yet be soon.
Settling by an open dormer on the top floor, overlooking the uncertain horizon, the oracle plodded the steps of her daydream. Ruminating on how those legendary figures, heroes, heroines & demigods of old must have felt carving a legacy of history from their circumstance. Pondering how they shined forth with a just cause to triumph against the darkness that near prevailed in those long dead ages. Wondering how she could emulate endurance of those myths.
Just then came the approach of Solaris’ chariot, racing crimson-orange rays over reserved mountains. Day breached the sanctum in columns that cascaded across the mirror apparatus along the spire that Azarra bid be constructed, magnifying the sheen. Rosy petal-flares encompassed all Elderath, shunning the shadows of her grave sister, Malderath. So too rose the clamor & pitch of birth cries. The child within the womb, eager to climb out and greet its first day.
Delphine dashed after those resounding screams. She pushed on in time to witness Sages Albrecht & Ydriz pull the mewling infant from the mother’s mortal frame. Empathy strained by the pained moaning of her friend, she nearly fainted. Held gently up to the light pouring in, the child railed against existence with ceaseless bawling. Its blaring mewling encased the room.
“For the incarnation of a god he sure whimpers worse than any child I have ever heard!” Ydriz clasped his blood-stained hands over his ears and stammered complaint.
Instinctively Delphine came to the defense of her friend, whose face contorted to the pressure of bearing the child into the world. Her hue enflamed, the veins in her forehead surged on verge of bursting. She offered a sharp remark to cover for Azara’s inability to yet phrase any thoughts.
“Can you imagine the cosmic awareness an immortal being- whose flesh is the void of space, whose tendons thread the planets, and whose sight is the stars - abruptly compressed into the form of a finite vessel? How it swells with the pain of life in bounds, more constricted than we can know?”
Her friend spun succinct rebuke. “I would be crying to at forsaking such an infinite expanse too, only to be compacted into a miniscule human body. What pain must be endured to spread Light to remake this fragile plane for our sake! And then, imagine being greeted upon arrival by the whining of ungrateful servants!”
Ydriz frowned. Embarrassed, he bowed to the griping baby and his maternal bearer. Tears & sweat formed a circlet of Azarra’s countenance, still mangled by pangs of her body. Yet through the obscuring waterfall she peered at Delphine with intent she intercepted and spoke for: “Goodly Sages, would you be so kind as to leave us? Assemble the others that they can convey the news of the god child’s birth. Call forth exultant procession to congregate to observe this paramount occasion firsthand.”
The sages bent low with deference then exited the chamber, placing the child in Delphine’s hands. Promptly she carried the bawling babe to Azarra, who shuddered with agitation as her kin was cautiously bestrewn across her. Her hands twitched and fingers jolted as her mind perceived this thing, sodden by her blood, as the living seed of Kassan’s infringement on her sanctity.
Azarra glared at the sniveling mess with enmity. Wanting nothing more than to satisfy her yearning for retribution by stabbing the creature with the horns she expected to sprout from its head. To free herself of the vile stain of Kassan in one sinister swoop. She’d endured tragedy of true evil, the wretched birth of all her misery. But her force of will persevered, wrangling in these pernicious urges of hate’s gratification, as she strained to envision the larger picture of what this child represented. How it was the only hope for her redemption.
Alas, you are my only chance at atonement... Clasping the newly borne entity to her bosom, she cradled it for the first time. Nursing dreams of vengeance. I will turn Kassan’s pitiful seed against him. You will become his bane and be to me a boon; a shield against those who would seek to harm me and sword of my revenge!
Delphine lit a sacrificial flambeau, tossed the afterbirth into the flames. Then began a liturgy of hopeful incantations sung over the combustion. Azarra held the child up to maturing beams of the day, gleaming against the babe and crackle of ember-heap.
Through this new light she gleaned the jubilant streak of Kassan’s death & her son’s climb. Smiled through the curtain of her imbrued eyelids at the canvas of the future she intended to paint. Suddenly the whimpering of the youngling halted for his christened name. “Drakkon!”
The Procession
30th of Solsheathe, 1309 CE
Azarra sat patiently upon her crystalline throne, cognizant that congregation of curious souls neared in hopes of garnering the sight of the god child. The underground hatches on the lowest floors of the shrine opened, letting vacuous mist enshroud her shrine. Breath from steam vents below filling the chancel hid her acolytes as they prepared consecrating rites.
Her abdomen was beset by tremors. A nervous turn in her stomach. This place is soon to brim with pilgrims come to see me and my child. If this lunar mist does not avail me, if my words fail, then those congregants will turn to my funeral procession and this temple shall enclose on me as a tomb…The full moon and autumn of summer’s aurora shone tilting glimmers in the eyes of all who beheld the sanctuary. Adopting adamant pose, she concealed her quivering as her faithful unfasten the doors. Let this light imbue strength! Absorb the clarity of the moon! Her smile, full, shines true over my cause!
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A broad procession enters the shrine. Souls threaded of remarkable variety; from farmers and humble pilgrims to landed men and warriors of fair renown. They walk with awe. Unrestrained in amazement of this forgotten temple, renewed. Yet some among them wear weary demeanors. Perhaps fearing that they should be revealed for heresy in this obscene praise.
The holy mother’s host, garbed in white, violet & gold, arranged the guests in circular formation before the throne. Servants kept them at a line of reverent distance from her seat & the effluvium swirling about Azarra veiled the child from their ogling. What wonder dripped from their jaws and darted in their stares. But they were not to see just yet.
The proud but lonesome figure of Gaahl emerged from evenfall and took his place among the crowd. He betrayed no inward sentiment. He’d risked much to convince the core of Ty-Drasil’s hierarchy that his favored oracle truly had conceived a child of constellation communion & astral insemination. His presence there gave such strong swig of reassurance for her though. That he’d support her snatching a miracle from the maw of cruel causality.
The crowd’s murmur muted when Azarra stepped to address them with rehearsed elocution. “Behold! O children of earth & womb! Hark to ye who suffer beneath the boot of harsh masters & toil under the sun for countless generations: Witness now the proclamation of the Great God, Drakkon, Himself! Who sends forth his love for all his mortal flock to greet ye worshippers from the realm beyond the stars, to Hear and Know fully! His Living Light funneled through my channeling, that I was bid bear him into this world. A child come as flesh & godly might alike!”
“See, ye children of the cosmos, the avatar of its shaper, revealed! Revel in his presence and pledge fealty to his heavenly cause! That this Lord’s Light shall shine unto ye! Be patient in basking in the coming warmth of the new world he shall deliver us to! I bid you search the depths of your souls and set your understanding of this miracle, not merely with your eyes but with the grasp of your spirits! That you are not shaken by this storm borne by its wings!”
Upon conclusion her acolytes intoned unison chant. Bygone phrases from the Waning of the World prophecy and medley of hymns supposedly sung in ancient times. The Mother of this strange new sect set her coven on evoking those threads of fate & yearning for the empyrean upon earth. That this should seize them with nostalgia and promise of a future far grander than any past.
There came upon the sanctum a consolidating vigor of unity. As more among the congregation chimed repetitive hum of the chorus, they conjured trance of unspeakable prowess endowed by glinting vision of Divinity. As the crooning mantra crowned her, Azarra presented her son to them. Drakkon, cradled in the skylight, encased in lunar tributaries & surreal castings from his mother’s Selenic circlet. Unbeknownst to those in the audience, the light prudently refracted from diadem gems and the mirrors embellishing the chamber. Beams from beyond bounced from uppermost to the depths. Forming captivating aura about the child, glistening as a god, enthroned amongst shimmering streams & spectral vapors.
The spectators, those who could prove her vanquishers or her followers, were absorbed in the illusion. Convinced that before them was the incarnation of the Lord of Creation’s Thunder come to rescue them up from their suffering. The show of mirrors, mist and dazzling designs draped their understanding. Beholding Divine colours and magick made tangible. But for some terror uprooted awe. Apprehension that the Lord, but a babe before them, would wave painful change over them when His promised storm of re-creation comes.
“Io Drakkon! Whose spirit is the sky and dwells in the vastness between the stars! Hail to my son! Whose anointed sight penetrates through the veil between realms into our very cores! Drakkon! Whose might is the force that suspends the planets in the air and breaks the foundations of the ground with wrath! Drakkon! Whose essence escapes comprehension and to whom we owe Creation to! By his Will, the eternal wisdom of the grand Maker, we bask in his earthly conduit. His ascent flourishes our hopes in this garden of flesh and fears!”
“Drakkon, our Living Lord, is here! Our immortal starlight born of my body, that he may walk amongst and beside us and know our plight! He shall bear His fiery scepter to burn away the dread serpents of the night, cull the rabid beasts laying claim to our woods & hearths, and restore us from the blight upon our being! Raise up your hands, O children ov the gods, & embrace salvation!”
Now I have them! Azarra simpered as her fear surrender to elation. With sly sleight of hand, she gave signal to the acolyte cleverly hid behind the mist. He lit the coiled sap before him to spit a frothing inferno. Aurorae traveled the air over here and the glowing babe. She reared up, creating a profound affect as though the child had summoned up flames from his fingertips.
The flash served more than enhancing the spectacle. For it alerted Delphine and her assistants. At this sign, they project their hands over mirrors & gems, casting imprints onto the veil behind mother & child. Dazzling their audience with seraphic shadow-play. In clandestine position, the red oracle rouses the crowd; evoking angel wings to unfold from shadows & light to flutter over the throne.
Animated by this deific marvel and compelled by hypnotic ardor, a myriad of worshippers produced objects of their station in offering to Drakkon & his maternal herald. Warriors set down their swords as testament to their allegiance. Merchants & nobles presented heavy coin purses to display their piety. Farmers laid out small bundles of crops to show they would bolster the cause through nourishment. Taking full advantage of this revering pomp, Azarra sent her voice to soar above the throngs in devout veneration.
“Know you, good folk, that ye shall be all blessed for your commitment. Given a place in His Kingdom! From this day on, those who choose to serve the Great God and take up the great work shall be freed from all chains and former affiliation. No longer shall ye be quartered by frivolous factions and warring tributes but be One under Drakoni banner! Unbreakable and triumphant bond renders us invincible against the blows of our enemies!”
“And now... To all those who have kin they must attend to back at their familiar hearths: return to your towns and to families to spread fyre of the good word of Drakkon’s return. So, let the exultation resound in all hearts! And to those who are firm and ready in their devotion, we welcome you to remain here as members of our new clan and help give form to the will of the Drakoni!”
The cantillation of the mob climaxed in gloating glory. Then diminished as acolytes led the crowd out or into deep chambers to discuss terms of their servitude. So ceased the lustrous veil & its puppet penumbra, as Delphine and her disciples furtively immersed themselves within the congregation as though they’d always been.
As if it intuited the ceremony’s conclusion, the babe clawed at his mother’s bosom, demanding to be fed. With an ounce of bitter resentment at the sudden yet long-term responsibility, Azarra kindly unraveled her ritual frock and led the child suckle sustenance. All the while satiating her own hunger on succulent prospects of the power, she’d amassed with the success of these first steps.
But this elated spell was broken swiftly by an abrupt awareness of an unknown and unarranged visitor challenging her eye line. A figure garbed in red and cloaked to hide any humanity. Through this façade an unnerving stare stabbed her. Wordlessly it scrutinized her every aspect. Azarra leaned to whisper to her nearest sentinel to arrest this phantom, but when she went to bid it, so the crimson apparition faded into the background. Satisfied at his glimpse of her.
The babe’s caustic cry distracts from the strange sighting. Tending to the tiny glutton, she didn’t notice Gaahl appear until he placed a wilted hand upon her shoulder.
“An ingenious orchestration that was, no doubt. Even amongst the minstrel acts & musicianship of ‘magick’ to capture the crowd there was real Spirit. The gods and muses do smile upon your boldness and your babe, young Mother of the Living Lord.”
He admitted to her secretly. “Your cause, your heart, still shines with purity in the eyes of the Divine. Your revelation captures the hearts of many with your spectacle. You have shown a shard of hope that our tribes may be healed in reverence for the Old Ways.”
“Return to me when the boy is grown into a man and shown himself capable of thaumaturgy. If he is hardened to hinder Kassan’s advance, only then may I acknowledge his divinity and crown him. In the meanwhile, know that the rumors of this god child will be whispered across near every threshold west of the River Ruun. When they breach the Bear’s ears, he will come for you & the child to stamp out a threat or seize the kid as his own. I shall invoke the gods for your favor and pray the elements are partial to your path.”