I yawn as I leave my room. Every part of my body felt tired, but I finally got a good night’s sleep. I stretch as I wander into the kitchen to eat breakfast and see my father glowering in his chair. His hand was clutching a new carving so tightly it looked like he was trying to strangle it. His eyes were trained on something, and even my door squealing open didn’t distract his gaze.
“Skath, how nice to see you again!” says a flamboyant voice to the side of me, “come and enjoy this banquet that I’ve prepared for you to celebrate completing the first part of your training.”
“Argentum is that you?” I say turning around to see my uncle sitting at the kitchen counter which is laden in all manner of pastries and meats. Argentum is wearing a burgundy suit with a black undershirt that is decorated in dark flowery embroidery, but not all is different from when I last saw him, as all the ornaments were gold like his last suit. My mother sits with Argentum at the kitchen table, her mouth watering, and her eyes excitedly prancing from one dish to the next.
“You’ve been out for three days, come and enjoy the fruits of celebration!” says my uncle signaling for me to come and sit with him at the table, “If you hadn’t been passed out for so long, I wouldn’t have had such a pleasant time reconnecting with my brother and his delightful wife.”
I’m surprised that I had been asleep for so long, but my attention can’t focus on that thought as my attention is constantly drawn to my father whose fist is crushing his carving with loud crunching noises. As I was resting, he was going through his own personal hell, which is surprisingly family reunions. My father’s eyes were locked in a death glare with his brother, and it seems my father can’t see anyone else but his brother in the room. I know in the briefest of interactions I’ve had with Argentum that he knows how to tug at every nerve my father has, so these last few days must have been rough for him.
I go over to the table and help myself to some breakfast and say, “nice to see you uncle. How did you know I was done with training?”
“I’ve been observing your progress from afar, and honestly some of your training was an absolute slog to watch you go through. I mean that whole last month where you basically zoned out for half a day at a time, doesn’t exactly qualify as entertainment. Though, seeing you increase in strength was spectacular when you were actually doing something. Rambling aside, I figured that when you made your essence reservoir your training must have been completed,” says my uncle pointing to Cranbeatha through a window. Cranbeatha was sitting as if proudly in the front yard of my home in full bloom despite it being the middle of winter.
“Right, and Eolus and Eagna,” I say looking at my hands and my grandfather’s gloves appear to be turning to dust. My fingers poke through the remains of my grandfather’s essence reservoir; the leather having disintegrated to be more leather bands on my hands than gloves.
“Fading into nothingness I’m afraid,” says my uncle taking one of my hands in his to look closer at what could very well be the last relic of his father, “It looks like Angtos rather liked you. He liked you so much, that he might have sacrificed the soul shard preserving his reservoir just to finish training you.”
“I honestly learned so much and am eternally grateful to him,” I say taking a peek at my father who looks like he is biting his cheek to restrain himself from saying anything just from hearing his father praised.
“You can keep the scraps of the reservoir, but I’ve come not necessarily for a family visit. You could say that I’m here to see how my asset has grown and developed, and to confer upon you your next training exercise,” says my uncle sighing deeply as if he hates having to speak of business when it’s clear he’d much rather be here reveling and feasting, “I believe your father will be the best person to train you as we approach the end of your preparations to serve me. He is the Kin Slaying Berserker, and thus the perfect next teacher. He will teach you his ways, and you will learn to fight and protect yourself as his pupil.”
“I don’t want to be a warrior or a fighter,” I say in protest, surprised at what my uncle is saying.
“I own you,” says my uncle coldly and I hear my father rise from his chair behind me, “you will be what I need you to be. If I need you to be a healer, you will heal for me. If I need a mercenary, you will kill for me. If I need a diplomat, you will speak for me! This is what you gave me as a part of your life debt or would you rather that I take my life debt now and thus keep your precious Uzuri imprisoned.”
“How dare you threaten my son,” says my mother rising from her chair grabbing a knife from the counter. With a wave of my uncle’s hand the room erupts in screams and my mother is forcefully sat down once more and sent across the room in her chair.
“You are in my home, and dare treat my wife like this? Skath is sworn to you of his own volition, so I will endure your treatment of him, but touch my wife and I will sever your head where you sit,” says my father, his sword erupting from the floorboards into his hand.
“A mere berserker threatens a god,” laughs my uncle as the screams increase in intensity, and my eyes tear into the world of essence. The same tornado of shrieking fog from my last encounter with Argentum pours into him and my father appears to be consumed by a flood of mist as he struggles against the dark and thundering torrent.
“Sit!” orders my uncle and my father flies into his chair, “I will not be here long, I just wished to assign the boy to his next teacher and speak with him.”
“Skath, I know of your inherent weakness,” says my uncle with the same seriousness as he ordered my father, “The world I will send you into possesses many types of people, and if you are spineless you will most likely be killed or taken advantage of. Your desire to dance around eggshells not harming others or adding to the pain already in the world may seem like a positive goal but some ideals are potpourried bullshit, especially when the pursuit of pacifism becomes mere passivity. I need a man that can stand strong in a world that could be primed to destroy him. I need a man that knows how to protect and is willing to make decisions that may have fatal consequences. You may feign that you are the man I seek, but I see your soul and it is weak.”
“I’ll do anything and even give my life if I can find a solution to save everyone,” I say looking my uncle in the eyes. I won’t shrink from him, I’m not weak anymore.
“Says the boy who wept at breaking a devil’s hands,” jests my uncle with a boisterous chuckle, “You’ll do anything? Kill Gehenna then! In some circumstances there isn’t a pacifist solution, and I can guarantee that by the end of this quest of yours, your bloodless plans will spill crimson life that will fill this dug grave in the mountains. It already has, to tell the truth, as your inaction has already spilt blood.”
“That can’t be true, I’ve done everything I can to ensure Uzuri will be saved peacefully,” I say, and my mind again casts the bloody mirage upon my hands.
“As we speak, Gehenna plots, plans, and acts, and your precious Uzuri stews in the new knowledge of her cursed existence. What you call certainties, I call dreams of a boy,” says my uncle looking at my father who no longer is struggling against Argentum’s forceful assault, “Maybe your father could shed some light on what I am saying.”
“Brother, I hate to say this, but you may be right,” says my father shaking his head and picking up his hat that rested against his chair to shield his face, “the boy may indeed suffer if he doesn’t grow to face what is actually out there. He will be swallowed by the world that beat me down until it took everything from me.”
“Skath, one last thing, I do not desire you to martyr yourself. Are we clear?” says my uncle looking back at me, “your life and death belong to me. You gave them to me!”
I nod and the energy of the room changes, as my uncle scoots my mother in her chair back to the table, “good, good. I’m sorry that I had to treat you like this, but you are more valuable to me than you can possibly know. I can’t have you up and die on me. Fruit pie anyone?”
“What do you wish for me to teach the boy?” asks my father as he sits defeated in his chair, “I know I’ve been soft on him and let him entertain ideas that spoke softly to my soul, and that may have been wrong, but I can’t have him walk my path.”
“Teach him to defend himself,” says Argentum getting up from the table, “teach him the cruel realities of the world. Some do deserve death and are irredeemable, and sometimes it is better to pluck a few weeds, so the garden thrives. You made such decisions, and inevitably many peoples prospered because of your actions.”
“Though weeds are unwanted life in a garden, who is to say that said weeds won’t sprout into beautiful wildflowers?” says my father still avoiding the gaze of my uncle, “I know that the world is cruel, but gauging every decision on net gain, inevitably means that some will suffer needlessly, and just because a majority profits doesn’t mean they were inherently benevolent. I can acknowledge virtue in Skath’s desires, but you are right, he will need to learn to protect, which will come into conflict with his current ideals.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Thank you for correcting me,” says Argentum taking a few more tentative steps to the door, “you truly are the best person to teach him, as you fought for the many and the few in your life. Hopefully, this will be instilled in Skath and replace his current ideals, so that he may evolve with the best ideas and become what the world and I need him to be.”
“The time is soon when you’ll take him from here isn’t it? This is why you are being so hard on him now. He needs to become as strong as he can for what is to come,” says my father watching my uncle open the front door.
“Yes. I know it is impossible for me to rid him of every flaw, but this one needs to go. I too find some comfort in his compassionate soul, but to go so far as to waver when he could have freed a people from the tyranny of an evil man a month ago because he wishes not to afflict even a malignant tumor with physical pain needs to be wretched from his soul,” says Argentum bowing his head, “I’m sorry… I know that the boy has come a long way from where he was, and may not know his potential, but from what I observe of this valley I can only sense despair in his future. I won’t say what I know, as perhaps it will be necessary for him to experience what is to come.”
“Will I be seeing you again, before you take Skath?” asks my father watching his brother spread his wings outside our cabin.
Argentum turns his head, takes a long sad glance at his brother, and shakes his head, “so long brother. I hope to see you again one day, but I’m sure it won’t be soon.”
With a tremendous flap of Argentum’s wings, he shoots into the air. The door still open now acts to frame something I wish could have been a painted picture. Gareth stood in enshrined shock and wonder in the doorway. His eyes were wide, and his jaw hung open in a stupidly hilarious way.
“Come in Gareth, Skath is back,” says my mother waving to Gareth and then turning to me, “He has dropped by every few days to see how you have been coming along. Honestly, most of his visits he just stops in, asks his question, and leaves.”
“Was that a god?” says Gareth walking into the house right past me and sitting at the kitchen table, “like a male goddess, I thought that they didn’t exist.”
“More like a devil,” says my father visibly looking calmer now that his brother is gone.
“The guy with the bird wings, yeah that was my uncle. He’s a totalion, so like a teratolion, just another race of man on this planet,” I explain looking at the mountain of pastries on the counter, and not feeling hungry enough to touch any of them.
“Your uncle is a god?” says Gareth apparently still not thinking straight and picking up a pastry from the counter absent mindedly, “who knew all these years that the matriarch was full of it. Gods exist and what my mum’s been preaching has merit.”
“Wait Esther has been preaching?” asks my mother trying to look over the pastries at Gareth.
Gareth nods his head, “After Skath busted my pa’s hands, a few women of the village approached her, and they began to talk about the old religion. My ma has been talking near non-stop with those that will listen and has been attempting to explain to the village that the high matriarch and Gehenna are the reasons the ‘demon’ attacked. Right now, she has a small group that call themselves the Sororitas Daemonica, that meets up in the woods preparing to rescue Uzuri like we are.”
“We have allies?” I say in disbelief looking back at Gareth, who nods his head enthusiastically.
“I think one actually joined up because she has the hots for you, something about your eyes being a pretty golden color. I know you, so I thought she might have been imagining things the day you took on my pa,” says Gareth looking me in the eyes and continuing, “wait, weren’t your eyes green before?”
My mother looks at my eyes and she too startles, “what happened to your eyes. You had mine before, now you have Argentum’s.”
“I think that Angtos messed with my DNA, and warned me this would happen,” I say trying to explain.
“Amber eyes are surprisingly a common eye color amongst celandil,” says my father walking over to get a good look at my eyes as well, “So, he messed with your body to make you more of a celandil? My eyes are violet the same as my mum’s, which is another common celandil eye color. You could always tell a celandil from a human by their eyes, so I guess you finally stepped into being one during your training. Though, I can just barely see a halo of green around your pupil noting your original color.”
“What’s DNA?” asks Gareth, looking at my eyes and getting uncomfortably close to my face and once he saw what my father saw he chimed in, “Oh, I can see the green now too uncle.”
“My eyes aren’t all that important right now,” I say quickly, backing away from Gareth’s invasion of my space. Curious as to why Gareth has come, I ask, “so did you just come to see if I was around, or…”
“Oh right, I completely spaced out because of the god and all,” says Gareth, his face growing from excited to anxious, “Right. Gehenna and the high matriarch left for the winter solstice for the rite of atonement and let’s just say it’s good that your back.”
“What happened?” I ask already guessing in my mind that Gehenna has begun his counterattack.
“Gehenna returned from the rite of atonement, but the high matriarch hasn’t. He claims that she must stay there to restrain the demonic threat,” says Gareth and the nervous energy radiating off of him almost darkens the room like Argentum’s yowling essence, “Gehenna also announced that the Amolacrimae will take place as soon as the first green of spring appears in the valley. We no longer have until the summer solstice to free Uzuri.”
“That would mean that you only have a few weeks at best, especially if spring strikes early,” says my father rubbing his head.
“What’s a week?” asks Gareth and everyone ignores his question to process the news.
My mother shakes her head and says, “Gehenna is overstepping his authority, only a matriarch can announce such things. He may be the only person to accompany the high matriarch besides her attendant, but that doesn’t give him the right to announce ritualistic changes. What about Esther, she was the new attendant after I was banished.”
“My ma was stripped of her position by the high matriarch for blasphemy,” says Gareth his voice growing quiet, “The high matriarch was yet to choose a new attendant, so she went only accompanied by Gehenna to the site of atonement.”
“That doesn’t sit right at all with me. That woman is extremely old and wouldn’t be able to truly survive in this cold on her own. From what I remember passing the site of atonement on my jogs around the valley, there isn’t a structure for her to stay in,” I say trying to remember what I can of the location, but all I can remember in detail are my grandfather’s military chants that drove me to run faster.
“You’d be right Skath, there isn’t a structure at the site of atonement for extended stays,” says my mother confirming my words.
I get up from where I was seated and say, “I’ll be back in less than an hour. The more information we have right now the better, and I want to see if what Gareth was saying is true.”
I don’t even wait for a response as I get up and leave the cabin, and at full speed bound through the forest. I fly like a sparrow through the trees, kicking off trunks and redirecting myself at key moments to make my path as direct as possible. The world slows as I prepare to reposition myself to grab a branch and come in for a landing and quickens when I execute upon my planned movements.
I walk alongside the obsidian cliffs, until I find my destination. The site of atonement was spectacular to finally get a close look at, instead of quick glances like I had in the past. I walk around a massive sink hole that appears to have teeth jutting out from its edges, until I find a bridge of sorts leading to a platform that appears to hover in the center of the sink hole. I guess this is what is meant by pondering upon the maw of Martog, as the sink hole does at least in an artistic sense look like a massive jaw.
I continued my small tour by looking at the cliff face itself and see that a sort of hollow had been carved out of the cliff to provide room for a sculpture that stood taller than the trees. The sculpture I assume was of the goddess of the village, and her dress had miniature carvings of what I assume were minor goddesses who all seem to be giving praise to the main goddess. The goddess’s dress was the same as the vestments of the village for women, as the dress over the abdomen of the goddess appears to have a hole in the shape of a sun symbol for the swollen belly of the goddess to proudly stick through. I can only guess that the goddess’s pregnant belly is symbolic of her life-giving side, as it also appears that the goddess had several breasts hidden under her dress to also emphasize this aspect of her. The goddess’s arms are outstretched to the valley, her head was lifted skyward, and her long hair flowed behind her almost like wings.
“No wonder my mother ditched the religion of her people,” I mutter looking at the goddess, “all that goddess seems to be is her womb. If that is the hope of the village becoming something like that, knowing my mother this fate definitely wouldn’t have resonated with her. Also, she wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress like that, she prefers her hunting slacks and tunic.”
I walked out onto the platform and see what I had come to learn. Gore and grey matter spatter the platform, and shards of a boar skull lay strewn about the edge of the circular platform within the maw of the pit. There wasn’t a corpse, and I assume whatever evidence of what transpired here besides the bloody shards of skull and rotting brain is now at the bottom of the pit. I can only think that Gehenna thought that the birds and weather would wipe his crime from this supposedly holy place. I take a few more steps toward the remains that, were already fading away and find a scrap of bloody fabric pinned under a larger portion of a boar skull fragment and collect it to show Gareth and my family.
I walk to the edge of the platform and look into the pit, and kick a fragment of boar skull into it, and I don’t hear a clatter signaling to me that it had hit the bottom. The pit is profoundly deep, and if whatever happened up here didn’t kill the high matriarch, the fall most certainly would have. I feel kind of weird treating this whole scene so coldly and with mere investigative observation, as technically who died here was my grandmother. However, blood can mean nothing if one doesn’t assume the role assigned by it. She cast me aside as a demon born, and exorcised me from her life, and thankfully it makes it easier to remove myself from her legacy of cult born ignorance that led to needless bloodshed with the teratolion, and Gehenna’s rise.
Looking at the remains of Gehenna’s butchery before me, I have to acknowledge now that what Argentum said is true. If I had killed Gehenna instead of wounded him, the high matriarch would still be alive. Her corpse now being at the bottom of this sink hole, is partially my fault, as I drove Gehenna to action. If I don’t act soon, Gehenna’s desperation could lead to even more death and bloodshed, which because I was the inciting incident, any blood he sheds will fall onto me as well. I hate, no matter how hard I try to find a bloodless path I somehow still find carnage. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but like my grandfather said I cannot control for what other’s decide and, in this case, I drove Gehenna to kill.
I turn around and without so much as a prayer or moment of pondered silence leave the high matriarch to her precious tomb; the sensations in my hands reenacting the sensations of Gehenna’s hands shattering. I walk out of Martog’s maw into the forest and stretch a second to prepare for my return journey to my family and Gareth, but something catches my attention. Someone is here with me. A woman wearing clothes like my mother and not the village’s belly dresses stands staring at me from the forest, and I recognize her immediately as the woman who hugged me the day Gehenna’s hands jellied.