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Chapter LXXII : Full Circle

Latemorn of Tertius, Twenty-Fifth Day of Autumnmoon

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Bram’s progress after leaving the remote beach was painful and slow. The isle was densely wooded, and he used every waking hour to trudge through in search of inhabitants. Most of the islets between Loulan and Kish were small and uncharted, but this one was surprisingly large. He searched for higher ground to improve his bearings, but nothing seemed to scale above the canopy. He needed a clear view to spot manmade structures. Even a precipice facing the sea would help him to spot nearby ships.

But as he hiked, his concussion forced him to stop and rest every few minutes. He was willing to bear the pain, but the wound made him dizzy and nauseous. If he didn’t find aid soon, he feared permanent damage. Or worse, death. Unfortunately, finding settlements on a remote island in the northern Great Ocean was a long shot, let alone a village with trained sorcerers. But he needed something soon, before things worsened.

Days passed since he’d eaten a full meal, and he was in no shape to hunt. Instead, he turned to fruit trees and berries, which were plentiful enough to satiate his hunger and thirst. It was odd to find these kinds of flora, since they tended to favor tropical environments, like those of the Southern Archipelago. They rarely grew so far north, much less in abundance. Yet, there was no way ocean currents could have taken him so far off course. He couldn’t explain the incongruency, but the only path to answers was forward.

As soon as he found elevation, he headed straight to the highest promontory. At the top, he searched in the distance and found signs of makeshift dwellings, enough to form the outskirts of a village. He breathed a sigh of relief as he limped down the slope, steadying himself along the way with the trunks of eucalyptus trees.

As he neared, he realized the size and scale of the village was far greater than at first glance. Beyond the veil of cypress trees, wooden huts sprawled as far as the eye could see. Under a vast, leafy canopy, villagers bustled between chores. Yet, these weren’t undeveloped island natives. These men and woman wore modern clothes, and their facial features looked like those from the main continent.

As he hobbled down the main road, he felt instantly unwelcome. The villagers glared at him, their eyes transfixed as they spoke to each other in hushed voices. He overheard an occasional comment.

“Truly, is this the one?”

“Could it be the same man?”

It dawned on Bram that he had been to this village once before. He recognized the makeshift buildings and unpaved streets, and his heart lurched. He hadn’t landed anywhere near to where his ship had capsized. Against all odds, Fate had brought him a thousand leagues to the south, to the island-continent of Minoa. To the very same village where he and Virgil plundered their sunstone. Had he not been so dazed by his concussion, he would have realized it sooner.

It seemed the villagers were quicker to catch on. Despite being matted with salt and sand; despite the scrapes and bruises on his unshaved face; despite having none of the trappings of a Gnostic Knight, and without the company of his lethally armed men, they saw right through him. As impossible as it seemed, every one of them recognized the man who led the assault on their village. Their angry glares multiplied, and Bram sensed a mob forming. He tried to slip away, but he was already past the point of avoiding a confrontation.

“Leaving so soon, Visitor?”

He spun around to face an old woman with white, sightless, prosthetic eyes. He vaguely remembered seeing her the first time. She even wore the same wicked grin.

His body tensed, remembering that he was hidden with Virgil’s invisibility at the time. The woman couldn’t possibly recognize him.

“How do you know who I am?”

The old woman cackled. “Living under the Goddess’ protection has made us sensitive to the spirits of others. I don’t need my sight to know what a pitiful wretch you’ve become. Whatever misfortune crossed your path, Gnostic, don’t expect sympathy from us!”

The villager to her side shook his fist. “You got what you deserved for the violence you brought upon us. May you be forever cursed, Knight!”

The man was joined by nods from the others.

“I lost my niece the day you attacked our temple!”

More stepped forward.

“Angkor killed my family during The War! Then they came here to take our sunstone. They think they can do whatever they want, huh?”

The rebukes grew into a din, and the mob intensified.

Bram scurried back, but there was nothing he could say or do to satiate their ire. He felt fear, and the stress made his head feel like it would burst. His vision blurred and the scene spun, until all he saw was a sea of bobbing heads and angry voices.

“Swine!”

“Chase him out!”

“No, see that he’s punished!”

The villagers chanted, and there was nothing he could do but retreat. He ran, but he only made it a few steps before he heard a rock whizz past his ear, an act of violence that broke the crowd’s inhibitions. Another rock grazed his side, while a third hit him squarely in the back. He yelped as a fourth slammed against his left leg. His knee buckled, and he fell into a puddle of mud. Injured and disoriented, he rolled on his back and held his hands to protect his face.

There was nothing he could do. The stones rained down, pelting him on all sides. They tore his skin and bruised his body. These were his final moments. A bludgeoning at the hands of a frenzied mob. They wouldn’t stop until he was dead, or close to it. A fitting end to his disgraceful existence ….

“Stop!”

An impassioned voice cried out, belonging to a young woman, by the sound of it. Her tone carried passion rather than anger. Bram lay in the mud puddle, bleeding from multiple wounds. But the pelting of rocks ended. It seemed the villagers heeded her call.

He opened his eyes and saw the rough outline of a person emerge from the crowd. She was Koban, no older than a teenager, with short, black hair and almond-shaped eyes that burned with conviction. They darted from one villager to the next, daring them to act out of line. No one challenged her.

She bent slightly at the knee and extended and arm to Bram. “Don’t be afraid, Stranger. No more harm will come to you.”

He recoiled. Having come so close to a humiliating death, his body still shook. The girl turned back to the crowd and wagged her finger scoldingly.

“You should all be ashamed! Mother Gaia forbids the maiming of another person. Remember your verses: ‘Thou shalt not harm nor hinder thy fellow man or woman. Not even the hairs upon their head.’ ”

Embarrassed murmurs rumbled through the crowd, but their fury subsided. They dispersed, slowly returning to their routines, as if nothing had happened. The young woman smiled, evidently quite proud of herself. Bram attempted to stand, but his legs were weak, and another wave of dizziness sent him back into the mud.

The young woman reached out. “Easy, now, you’re injured. Here, let me help.”

Bram felt the soothing flow of magic. The painful swelling in his head receded, bringing back clarity. He felt more like himself.

The young Koban woman sounded concerned. “Your wounds are quite severe! How many rocks hit you in the head before I got here?”

Bram was grateful for the help, but he felt weak and humiliated. He mustered a few words. “The injury happened a few days ago, My Lady. My ship capsized, and I washed ashore to the north. Most of it’s a blur.”

He didn’t want to elaborate. This kind stranger didn’t need to know about his circumstances.

The Koban girl shook her head. “You’re lucky to be alive, you know!”

He couldn’t stand her cheeriness. A mob nearly killed him, for a crime of which he was guilty. He deserved their hate. And he deserved hers, too.

“You don’t know what I’ve done. The others … they were right to attack me. I don’t deserve to be spared.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The young lady looked almost sad. Her lips trembled, her brows relaxed, and her shoulders slumped.

“But, you’re sorry … right? About what you did, I mean.”

Bram felt a hole in his chest. He didn’t need her empathy, and he didn’t want to confess his feelings, either. Not to a stranger, at least. Nevertheless, her gaze was oddly comforting. He couldn’t help but respond.

“Of course, I am. I regret it every day.”

She reached out and grabbed his hands, surprising him with her sudden movement. Her eyes were portraits of sincerity, and she sounded genuine. “Gaia teaches us forgiveness, Stranger. So, too, must you forgive yourself. I promise you: there is nothing for which you can’t atone. You are only truly judged the day you return to Gaia, and that is not today. The Goddess granted you mercy for a reason. Please, use the time She has given you to make things right.”

Bram felt tears roll down his cheeks. Whether or not there was a Goddess, the young priestess offered no judgment. Only hope, should he dare to take it. Hope was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and the hole in his heart yearned to be filled. He needed it, so he did as she asked.

He wiped away the tears and steadied himself. “I owe you my thanks.” He realized he didn’t even know her name. “I’m Bram. Please, tell me your name, so that I might thank you properly.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, how rude of me! It’s Mica. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand eagerly.

He found her cheeriness refreshing. He shook it warmly. “Thank you, Mica, for stepping in when you did.”

She smiled. “Then it’s not just me you should thank. I wouldn’t even be here, if the Gurudeva hadn’t sent me to find you.”

Bram felt as if the ground dropped from underneath him. “What? The Gurudeva? He sent you here?”

He could never forget Minoa’s faith leader, who had bravely faced Virgil’s magic in the sunstone’s chamber. It seemed impossible that he could have known. Bram washed ashore after an attack that was more than a thousand leagues away, by a beast that many believed was just a legend. Yet if the man had the power to divine Bram’s arrival, his abilities as a scholar were most impressive. And, potentially, quite valuable.

Mica nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes! In fact, he sent me to this very spot, just minutes ago. He said he wanted me to retrieve something important. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’m sure he meant you.”

Bram tensed. If the Gurudeva truly had powers to foretell of his arrival, Bram hoped he shared Mica’s beliefs of forgiveness and mercy. The last thing he wanted was to face an angry horde of scholars looking for justice.

He tried his best to sound humble. “Then, yes. I suppose I owe the Gurudeva my thanks as well. I don’t suppose you know why he sent for me. I shouldn’t even be here. My ship was headed for Kish when it capsized.”

Mica pointed an authoritative finger toward his chest. “Well, it must be because you’re special! The Gurudeva wouldn’t send for just anyone, you know.”

Bram had no idea why the Gurudeva would go out of his way to help him, but he was curious to find out. Whether facing the man would lead to aid or get him killed, Bram was past the point of fighting Fate. This time, he would follow, wherever it led.

“Alright. Please take me to him.”

Mica beamed. “Wonderful!” She extended her hand. “Follow me. It’s not far.”

Bram remembered the hike through the sprawling Minoan village, as well as the majestic temple at the end. Mica happily chatted along the way.

“You probably already guessed, but I’m studying under the Gurudeva to become a full-fledged Gaian priestess ….”

She talked all about her training and life in Minoa, but Bram only half listened. He found it difficult to walk the same path and relive the moments of his first visit. Not even a full month had passed. Mica urged him to embrace forgiveness, but he doubted he could ever truly forgive his mistakes that day. Not just for what he did in Minoa, but for all the times he killed in Richard’s name.

It wasn’t just a matter of facing the Gurudeva, or the dozens of priests and priestesses who stood in horror as their brothers and sisters were killed in front of them. He would face them all gladly. But, that would only be scratching the surface. He wasn’t sure he could face the thousands of other men and women, whose loved ones died because of him, during The War. And it wasn’t Mica’s place to forgive those sins, either.

The memories were most vivid when he reached the temple. Its majestic gates gleamed in the midday sun. It was the same place where two priests welcomed his Angkorian assembly, until Virgil put them into a magical slumber. As he walked inside, he saw the white marble tiles, as if the bodies of paralyzed clergymen still lay crumpled on top. He imagined the smears of blood across the mirrored surface of the sunstone’s inner chamber.

But he never made it that far. As soon as he and Mica reached the large central nave, a few dozen priests and priestesses gathered around him, each in robes of red or blue.

A firm and familiar voice spoke out, seemingly echoing his own thoughts.

“I see that you’ve prepared yourself for judgment, Mister Morrison. Fortunately, it’s not too late to repent … assuming you’re willing to take responsibility.”

The Gurudeva emerged from the group of priests. Bram remembered his bald head, small stature, and youthful face, hidden behind a short, black and white beard. This time, of course, his presence was more commanding.

Mica stepped forward and kneeled. “Father, I brought the man you requested.”

The Gurudeva nodded. “Rise, Daughter.”

He then faced his clergy. “Sons, Daughters, please leave Mister Morrison and I to speak alone. Mica, you may stay.”

The priests and priestesses dispersed, leaving Bram and Mica alone in the presence of their leader.

Bram didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know if there was anything he could say. Certainly, nothing that would bring back those who had died that day.

The Gurudeva studied him, in his filth, with more mud and blood than body underneath.

“My, my, how you’ve changed. The once mighty Knight has been reduced to a broken man who lost everything. Of course, I don’t need to tell you what you already know. Such is the price you paid for enabling the forces of evil that day. I warned you of the calamity you would release. By now, the Ahriman is surely close to breaking its chains of imprisonment and raining its wrath down on all of Gaia.”

Bram wondered how much the Gurudeva truly knew. Perhaps his powers of divination extended across the world. But did he know that other sunstones had fallen into Angkor’s grasp? Did he realize just how close the world had come to a second cataclysm?

The Gurudeva glared at him, crossly. “Well? Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

Bram felt himself sink to his knees. It wasn’t easy facing the victim of his crimes, but he couldn’t remain silent.

“I’m sorry. I ….”

“Louder.”

Bram was happy to oblige. He no longer had pride holding him back. If the Gurudeva wanted contrition, Bram was ready with a full-throated response.

“I agreed to come here, My Lord. I came to beg forgiveness, not because of the weight of justice bearing down upon me, but because it’s the right thing to do. As you say, I am a broken man, who has lost everything. Everyone I have ever loved has died or gone missing. Some have even turned against me. It is no different from what you and your clergy must have felt for the loss of your loved ones. I am, thoroughly and completely, remorseful for what happened.”

Bram very much doubted the Gurudeva wanted to hear excuses, but there were things he needed to say. “You don’t have to believe me, but I didn’t want there to be bloodshed that day. Both me and my men were under a spell of compulsion. And later, I tried to make things right. I renounced my loyalty to Richard, allied with Angkor’s enemies, and attempted to warn them of subsequent attacks. But I failed. I arrived too late, and Rungholt lost its sunstone. Again, at Loulan, I was too weak to stop the villains from mounting another attack, and they lost theirs. As a last resort, I set a course to Vineta, on a merchant ship. Until I was attacked.”

He lowered his head, unsure if what he said even mattered. “I know I made mistakes. I erred the very first time I donned my Gnostic armor. I chose to be Richard’s weapon, and he used me to unleash the Ahriman’s power. Power that I never even knew existed. Yet I take responsibility for my ignorance.”

He met the Gurudeva’s steel blue eyes with resolve. “I’m not the man I once was! I accept my crimes and am willing to face retribution. All I ask is that you allow me to finish what I started. Angkor already has three sunstones. If you have the power to help me reach Vineta, lend me your strength. Help me to warn them, before Angkor has the last one.”

The Gurudeva remained silent, seemingly pondering his proposal. “Hmmm … perhaps it is wise for you to continue your journey. Even so, there’s still the matter of penance ….”

Bram was perplexed that the Gurudeva lacked a sense of urgency. “My Lord, we have little time to waste! I’m already far off course from my original journey. I need to get to Vineta before Angkor strikes again. If we miss our chance to protect the final sunstone—”

“Silence!”

The Gurudeva’s voice thundered against the mighty walls of the temple. Despite the religious leader’s small body, Bram shrank back from his fiery gaze. Even Mica looked stunned.

“You dare lecture me on the power of the sunstones? By Minoan Law, you should be hanged! Two Gaian Priests and a Priestess are dead because of you. Worse, you blasphemed one of the planet’s most sacred artifacts. Either you find your place, or I’ll hand you to the Redeemers!”

Bram had no idea who these Redeemers were, but the context left no doubt that they were some kind of executioner. He knew he walked a very fine line, with no leverage to push back. The Minoans might have been a peaceful and trusting people, but they had been pushed to their limits.

Assuming the Gurudeva was privy to the knowledge of Transiens Veritas, Bram had to trust that he understood the consequences of Angkor gaining the final sunstone. Whatever penance the Gurudeva had in mind, Bram had no choice but to complete it, if he wanted to gain something in return.

He knelt before the religious leader, teeth firmly clenched. “I accept whatever penance you believe is necessary, My Lord. My fate is in your hands. Just know that I have firmly resolved to protect the final sunstone. I will do whatever it takes to stop the release of the Ahrimen.”

The Gurudeva crossed his arms. “We shall see. Now, stand.”

Bram rose and saw the faith leader return to composure. “To the east, past Minoa’s verdant countryside, lies a cleft in the earth, known as the Great Crevasse. Within its cliffs is a shrine, which we use as a rite of passage for new acolytes. Your penance will be to assist Mica with her pilgrimage there.”

The young priestess gasped and fell to her knees. “It’s an honor, Father. I’ve wanted to become a priestess for so long!”

The Gurudeva looked pleased. “And so you shall, Daughter. You have, after all, reached your sixteenth year and have passed all your requirements. By Minoan custom, you are an adult, and you have the necessary skills to triumph.”

Bram felt nervous. The journey sounded like it could add days in each direction, out in a wilderness with the threat of spawn and other dangers. He wouldn’t have time to make it to Vineta by ship. He had to hope the Gurudeva had some magical mechanism to get him there in time.

With reluctance and no other choice, he stepped forward. “I pledge myself to be a faithful escort, Gurudeva.”

The faith leader wore a wide grin. “Wonderful. You shall leave tomorrow, at sunrise. We’ll provide you with a bath, fresh clothes, food, and supplies. And if I’m not mistaken, some further healing for that wound on your head.”

Bram cringed. It felt like Mica had done a fine enough job, but he wasn’t about to turn down extra healing. “How about a weapon, in case we run into spawn?”

The Gurudeva chuckled. “We have nothing like that here. You’ll just have to get used to prayers to the Goddess, Mister Morrison.”

Bram hoped it was a joke, but he wasn’t quite sure. Nevertheless, he nodded politely. Inside, his stomach churned.