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The Domes of Calrathia
Ch. 23: Fiat Voluntas Tua

Ch. 23: Fiat Voluntas Tua

It was only until next afternoon I had the time to properly speak with Berenice. The tribesmen were in a hurry to leave the encampment of the cannibals, beleaguered and weary as we all were. They didn’t want to stay near the awful place, and neither did I.

Everything of the cannibals we burned. Their ice skimmers we destroyed and made unusable. And as for the bodies, most were thrown into the fires as well. I only regret that we did not have time to ground their bones into dust and scatter it into the wind. But as we were so exhausted, the decision was made to pack up and leave.

My ice skimmer was chosen to carry the wounded as it was fully stocked with provisions. I kept my peace, but I was worried for my food stores as I did not have enough for so many. Odoacer saw my hesitance and clapped me on the shoulder cheerfully.

“You think we would deprive you after saving our lives? No, you have acted honorably toward us, and it is our turn to repay you. We shall depart for a fishing ground not far from here. And I swear to you that we will repay you threefold for everything you have done for us.”

We set off, and it was at that point my strength finally failed me. My eyes were like lead weights. All I could recall was resting back and glimpsing the stars twinkling overhead. I thought I saw the smallest flashes of emerald following us along as consciousness finally slipped from me.

I once again found myself in the Sepulcher of Contemplation, the corridors of my mind drawing me back to the day I took First Vows. The Sepulcher is not a large space. It is of a simple stone arrangement, without golden frescos or impressive murals. There were no bas-reliefs nor banners nor pompous tapestries. This was a place of austerity, a reminder of what we were at the beginning—twelve men with nothing more than cloaks on their backs and swords in their hands.

Statues with the likenesses of the twelve stood to watch, guarding at an altar placed at the end of the room. At the center was an alcove where a Vestal Flame burned eternally. The awaiting novitiate is made to kneel before the fire and reflect on his elevation an hour before the ceremony begins. While the stone is terrible on the knees, it is considered bad form to rest or sit beforehand.

The first to enter the Sepulcher is the Custodian of the Flame. His formal duty is to tend to the Vestal Fire and lead the proclamation of oaths, but his less glamorous purpose is to make sure the novitiate has memorized all the proper words and motions before the ceremony. It is only with his permission that the three witnessing Masters are then allowed to enter.

There was a point in our esteemed School’s history when all the Masters would congregate to witness elevation of novitiates. However, in my time, there were so many Masters and so few novitiates that the practice was shortened to three. The once grand rite was reduced as well, with only the cardinal ordinances typical.

Processing behind the three Masters were the older novitiates serving as attendants. They wore blue robes—an elevation ceremony being the only time they were allowed to wear the color. Holding thuribles and sacring bells, they assisted with the rite. Finally came the rest of the novitiates, dressed in long, white tunics.

The Custodian of the Flame beckoned with his hands and all kneeled. “A petitioner has come seeking elevation to the School of Astronomers!” He paused before turning to me. “Sirius! Are you of sound mind and body, that you are ready to offer your life?”

“I am.”

“Are you of sound conviction, that you are ready to offer your heart?”

“I am.”

“Are you of sound spirit, that you are ready to offer things without hesitation?”

“I am.”

The Custodian nodded. “The Masters of this School have found you worthy. Now before your fellows and the Potentate, imbibe the Flame and speak your oath.”

The Custodian thrust a pair of tongs into the Vestal Fire and took out a single ember. According to legend, whoever spoke his oath falsely or with doubt would have his tongue burnt to ash. However, this was but a theatric. The ember, while appearing hot, was nothing more than a clever substance which dissipated harmlessly in the mouth.

The Custodian placed the ember on my tongue, and I recited the oath. “Until the last star darkens, until the Firmament is split in twain, until my life is spent, I do hereby pledge myself to the School of Astronomers. I declare freely I shall take no wife nor house nor title. I place myself in the Hand of the Potentate. I am His Sword, His Shield, His Torch. I shall fight the enemy no man dares face. I shall shout the truth no man dares speak. I shall go where the brave fear to tread, and I shall light the way for the realms of men to follow. For this, I pledge my life, my honor, my soul forevermore.”

It is at this time, the Masters bestow the postulant with three gifts. The first Master drapes the aspirant with the starry mantle of the Astronomers. The second presents a newly crafted sword. The third hands the reins to a foal of the Anemoi.

The Custodian lays his hands on the postulant, and with words of the Eternal Language, the aspirant is inducted as a full member of the School of Astronomers.

I awoke in a cold sweat. Like bursting out from the surface after a deep plunge, my lucidity came back to me all at once. Some have envied me for this proclivity, but I have always found it a curse. My body seizes up and demands I rest no longer, even if I would’ve preferred sleeping a few more hours. Covered in stifling furs, I found I ached terribly, and nothing would return me to a painless sleep.

Pushing off my covers, I sat up in a dim tent. Thankfully, it was made of animal skin rather than the grotesque shelters of the cannibals. I tried to reach over to my belongings, but my arms and legs resisted me. Every movement came with shakes and irritated gasps of pain. I had to sit in the cold air, waiting for further strength to come back to me.

Looking over myself, I was grateful that my wounds had been bandaged. I collected far more wounds than I had thought from the battle, though none were too serious. Attempting to crawl over again to my satchel and clothes, I grasped my blue mantle with both my hands. I trembled as I threw my cloak over myself, its meagre warmth more comforting than tribesmen furs.

I wept for a time before I regained myself again. Tired of my surroundings, I ignored my disobedient body as I got into my clothes as fast as I could. I saw a sliver of sunlight through the flap of the tent, and gnawing impatience pushed me back to my feet as I stumbled and threw the flap open.

Odoacer had been true to his word, taking us to safer land. The tribesmen’s ice skimmers were gathered in a large semi-circle which enclosed the tents and snow shelters. And beyond, men were scattered about on an ice shelf, using spear drills to cut openings for fish. Here the ice was thin, and they didn’t need to descend underground to reach the water and the sustenance inside.

The smell of cooking fish quickly distracted me. My stomach leapt to hunger, and and I set myself down by one of the populated campfires. Instead of the dreaded bonfires of the cannibals, these flames were stoked with seal oil and wood purchased from Terminus. I couldn’t say the smell was too pleasant, but it was far better than the black fumes which fouled the lungs.

Three younger men were the first to greet me, their wide eyes filled with awe and admiration. I was surprised by the sudden commotion as hollers went out through the area. I had tried to warm myself by a fire only to find half the entire encampment was suddenly around me.

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There was much shouting and yelling, “He’s awake! He’s awake!” It was said with an excitement that I found startling. It took me a few moments to remember that I had saved these men’s lives with my rescue of Odoacer and fight with the cannibals. And they gave me a hero’s triumph.

My dark thoughts from earlier were banished by men who embraced me with tears and called me brother. I was passed around, each one making a gesture to their forehead or throwing their arms around me or even falling to their knees and kissing the ice under my boots.

“Calm down! Let him eat! Let him eat!” One of the older tribesmen called out, pushing aside the men with a plate of fish in his hand.

I gratefully took the meal, and I was provided furs to sit on as the men gathered round. I have never been accustomed to being the center of attention, though the tribesmen graciously interpreted my awkward demeanor as exhaustion from the previous night.

But I will tell you, no man should go his life without one day such as this—of being a hero. A day like this was worth a thousand of misery. Even I, who was a stranger to these men’s ways and customs, felt like I had known them forever. We were brothers made in the blood we had bled together, and never since I had departed Zodiak, that I felt like I had found a home.

We traded stories from last night’s battle with the usual jokes and embellishments men are prone to add. I was finally coaxe into sharing my great feat of jumping into a moving ice skimmer and fighting three of the cannibals singlehandedly. I was in the middle of describing how I saw Odoacer decapitate the monster when I saw Berenice sitting by herself near an ice skimmer.

I paused as I looked at her and she at me. Quickly finishing up the rest of my tale, I untangled myself from the men. Some of the older tribesmen were quick to notice my purpose, and they distracted the others with bellyfuls of laughter and other stories from the night.

Waving to Berenice, I sought a place alone far out to talk. The afternoon sun cast a soft orange glow on the frozen land, and we walked a distance away from the camp.

Berenice treaded on the ice carrying her great sword as ever. She rested the sheathed blade on her shoulder, always struggling under its weight. I would’ve advised her to sling it over her back, but then the blade might’ve tipped her over.

Berenice wore much heavier clothing than we last met, and her golden hair had grown to fall below her shoulders. She looked more weary than I had seen her before, but it wasn’t the despair as was when we first met. No, this was just simple hardship. And yet, seeing even that much on her graceful features was enough to make my heart weep.

We paced in silence for a while, each of us trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t properly form in our mouths.

“How are you here?” I finally asked. I was torn. I was happy she was here, but she shouldn’t have been.

Berenice hesitantly glanced at me, as if afraid her answer would provoke me to anger. “I tried to do as you wished. I read your letter a dozen times. Please! I don’t want you to look at me as if I ignored you! But I couldn’t leave it like this! I couldn’t live in that house without seeing you again!”

“What about Charon? What about your house?” I asked, quietly.

“Charon watches over the property. The tribesmen wouldn’t permit him along, anyway. They are a superstitious folk.”

I shook my head. “You desired to see me again. And so you embarked on a fool’s errand to find me on the Great Ice Plain. Would you have gone to Myz? Would you have traveled into the Barren Land for my sake?”

Berenice looked at me with the tears of an infant—and that is no insult. I have never met a woman who matched the innocence of Berenice.

“Oh, you foolish woman!” I rubbed my eyes exasperated. “You risked everything! And for what!? Had the Potentate not intervened, you would’ve been eaten by cannibals! I could’ve traveled to Myz without even knowing you had perished! Know this, I do not want you here. I beg you, go back!”

Wet tears streamed down Berenice’s eyes, and I immediately regretted my harsh words. She sank to the snow on her knees, the weight of the great sword bearing down heavier and heavier on her.

“What should I have done?” She murmured, looking at me, utterly lost. “I did not mean to cause you to anger, but how can I sleep in a soft bed when I know a good man has marched off to his death? I must confess my heart to you. All the world has turned to grey. I can no longer enjoy a warm meal or the sunshine of a pleasant day. I can’t cherish song or fine books or any of my childhood delights. Not while I know you are out there! I can’t stand to think of it! Every night since you left, I dreamt of your frozen corpse, forgotten and lost! What was I supposed to do!?” She fell at my feet, the sword toppling over into the snow.

“How can it end like this!?” She sobbed. “I am alone! I am all alone! Please forgive me! You are the last one I have left! I could not let it end with a letter!” She grasped her arms around my legs, not letting go.

Gently, I knelt down to her and clasped her trembling hands in my own. Berenice looked at me with reddened eyes, and I broke her heart. “Forget me,” I told her. “One day, you will. Perhaps not for a few years, maybe not for ten, but I promise you—one day— you will wake up one sunny morning, and you won’t think of me at all. You’ll sit at your table. You’ll eat a fine meal, and you’ll go about your life as if you never knew me. And I promise you then, you’ll be happy.”

Berenice stared at me with shocked eyes for a second before shaking her head as if the thought itself horrified her. “I do not want to live as that Berenice! Ask me to fall upon my sword instead, please! I would rather that! I would rather swear oaths of poverty and celibacy than see myself live that life. You do not believe me? Here, I shall recite them now! Upon my honor and under the eyes of the Potentate, I—”

I firmly clasped my hand to her mouth, stopping her. “You do not know the import of those words. You do not know they pain they bring. You speak them now as I once did, thinking of love and glory and triumph, and you will be flayed for that pride, as I have been. There is nothing worse than those words upon your soul. I warn you this once. You will lose everything you thought you could cherish.” I looked at her with the eyes of a dead man, and she saw the severity of my speech.

Gently, I let her go. “You wish to be by my side? Very well. Say that vow knowing full well everything you intend to lose. Offer your oath, knowing the sacrifice behind it, and without a trace a doubt in your soul. Otherwise, I shall not hold you accountable. And while I cannot speak for the Potentate, I know he is more merciful than I.”

A moment’s consideration passed over Berenice. And if she had tarried one second longer, I would’ve doubted her. But such the woman that she was, understood everything she stood to lose, and spoke anyway.

“Let it be done.”

The woman astounded me then and many times since. Often I have fancied she was not a woman at all, but rather a spirit of the Potentate, for such conviction is so rarely found among the children of men. And yet, it wasn’t the conviction that convinced me. It was the abandon with which she said those words, despite knowing what they entailed, everything they cost, which renewed in me a love for my own vows.

As always, it was Berenice who reminded me of the loves I had long forgotten, battered and bruised as I was. It was she who tended the hearth of my soul, stoking the fading embers of my heart. It was Berenice who reminded me to forget bitterness and to forgive the grudges long-held.

I clasped my hands over hers. “What would you have me do, woman? When I depart for Myz, shall you have me choose between my quest and you? There is great danger there, and I know such a time will come. When it is your life or my duty as an Astronomer, which would you prefer?”

She looked me firmly in the eye. “Your duty as an Astronomer, or else you would not be the man I have come to love.”

And I knew she said so truthfully.

I could only look at her in disbelief, and I kissed her on the forehead. “Oh, you most foolish among women! To choose a man who can offer you neither gold nor lands nor children. But still… I cannot let you go with me.”

I saw Berenice’s heart shatter, but I grabbed her hands in my own before she could cry further. “I left you that day because I wanted to spare us both the heartbreak. And I tell you now, I would do anything to keep you by my side. But I cannot see you die. You wish to do right by me? Live well and be happy in Terminus, or wherever you find yourself. Enjoy your songs and your books and the sunshine. And remember me. That is the only thing you can do, and that will warm my heart more than if you were to travel with me.”

Berenice cried anyway, and I drew her into a long embrace. She sobbed on my shoulder for a long time before pulling back. I was prepared for her to leave, but she reached over for her sword and thrusted it toward my chest.

“What are you—”

“You ask me of this, Sirius? This terrible burden? Then I must ask of you—live. I see it in your eyes! You’ve already given up all hope, haven’t you? You wish me to go home? Then swear an oath here and now that you will reach Calrathia, and you will take this sword with you. If not, then I shall throw myself to the cannibals!”

I was amazed at the strength of this woman. Taking the hilt, the two of us holding it together, I bowed my head. “I swear to you.”

Berenice’s fingers trembled as she hesitated to let the sword go.

I looked her in the eye. “Until the last star darkens, until the Firmament is split in twain, until the last drop of my blood and then after, I swear I will reach Calrathia.”

Berenice was shocked by the weight of my words, but as I tugged on the hilt, the sword fell away from her fingers and into mine. I unsheathed the blade, studying its strange design. The dark steel was lighter than I expected. It was patterned after fire, and the molten core yearned to be set loose. Standing up, I held the sword up in air with my hands.

Twisting the mechanism on the hilt, the sword came alive in great fire, and I was forced to raise it higher to avoid the searing heat.

“Does it have a name?” I asked, awed by the craftsmanship.

“Caliburn.” Berenice said.

“Whoever crafted it knew their art well. It is a sword worthy for a king.”

But as I looked from the flaming sword to the sky in the dying of the sunlight, I saw that which I thought I would never see again. A great emerald light streaked across the violet horizon—off to Myz, off to the Barren Land.

Off to Calrathia.