After reading much Atheian history and after having the chance to experience the things he has experienced, both in the visions of great events in Sharan history and in his everyday life among his own people, there is something he noticed and began to further think about: cruelty and what we feel about it.
People, be they Sharan, Atheian, or human, seem to have very complicated feelings about cruelty—we all claim to hate it, yet, sometimes it is quite clear that we also love it. There are individuals who enjoy cruelty in its many forms for their own sick reasons, but the average person, if certain requirements are met, accepts cruelty even in its most vile forms.
We seem to hate cruelty that is directed toward the incorrect people for the incorrect reasons; we hate cruelty that we feel to be unjust.
And we love cruelty, or find great enjoyment in it if said cruelty is directed toward the correct people for the correct reasons; we love cruelty that we feel to be just.
Here’s an example: if a group of bandits goes to a village and proceeds to rob, torture, rape, and kill the inhabitants of said village, we, of course, see this vile act they have committed as cruel; it is a form of evil.
But… if this same group of bandits, after their deeds, is found, captured, and then brought to justice, many, if not most, would be fine if these bandits go through a similar fate.
You reap what you sow; you get what you deserve. All of these societies, which Kanrel has in some ways been a part of, all agree on this principle: If you do something wrong, vile, or evil, you will get an appropriate punishment; and cruelty often finds itself within the categories of ”vile” and ”evil," but at times cruelty finds itself in the categories of ”right,” ”appropriate,” ”deserved,” and ”just.”
It is an interesting thing, something that in some ways Kanrel agreed with, but he also wondered if there could be better options to punish the cruelty of others. Do we have to sink to their level?
But at the same time, he felt that if he found himself in a situation where he inflicted unjust cruelty upon someone. Then he would deserve an appropriate punishment, even if that punishment happened to be death.
Perhaps there will be a day when this becomes a reality he will have to face. After all, what Mu’u Tou’t had seen within the globes could insist upon itself and become a crime for which Kanrel ought to be judged. But he doubted such a destiny, for even if he thought of himself as a fool, he would do the right thing, right? He believed that he could navigate right and wrong and do that which is good.
Kanrel placed his pen back onto the table; he had filled another notebook with these thoughts that had begun to haunt him more than ever. For he already feared that he would someday do something evil, something that could never be forgiven. Don’t we all have such a fear? Besides, he didn’t want to become like Ignar, even if he could find pieces of himself within that someone who had done so many terrible things; even if Ignar had become a part of him; even then, he wished that Ignar wouldn’t devour him; for he wished to remain, at least in part, as who he already was, even if that person, who he now was, stood upon the grave of the child that he once was.
He sighed and looked around. Not much longer would he spend here. According to Vaur’Kou’n, they had but a week left… He felt bitter about it. He didn’t want to leave quite yet. There were still so many things that he needed to know, that he needed to understand. But perhaps they were all right: There are some things better not to know. So he should just accept that he would never know all that he desires to know.
At least he’d finally be out of here; at least he could finally find himself in the company of Gar and Y’Kraun again; how he missed his friends. How he wished to share, as much as he could, the things that he had learned and the theories that he had come up with.
He sighed once more and got up from his chair. Today he would have to do something he preferred not to do. Last night, Vaur’Kou’n had shared with him the news that seemed to annoy him more than it did Kanrel: ”We’ll have to spend another few hours in the Tunnel…” The disappointment and the preemptive boredom could be heard thick in his voice; even if the abyss could be so hypnotizing, and even if the Veil and its shadows whispered and called for them to remember or to enter and become a part of it, it still was a very boring job to do. Just standing there, hours upon hours… Of course, they could converse, but according to Vaur’Kou’n, that was exactly the thing that made it boring; it really wasn’t the abyss and just standing around; it was, in fact, Kanrel’s dreadful company.
And soon enough, Kanrel found himself, again, in the company of Vaur’Kou’n, who led him down the tunnel, toward the edge of darkness. This would be the last time he would have to do this, so he decided to accept the waste of time that it would be. Besides, he would at least get some ample time to stare at the Veil itself; perhaps one can find something whilst staring into the abyss. Thoughts might, at times, wander from there to place themselves in his mind.
At the edge of darkness, there were two Atheians whom Kanrel didn’t really know. He had seen them in passing, but he had never exchanged words with them, only gazes. He wondered, what it was that they sought within the Sanctuary. What was their mission as members of the Universal Truth? Did they come here only to study, or did they have some grand inventions they worked on, be they spells or magical devices?
He would never know. He could ask, but it was unlikely that he would receive an answer, as most of the Atheians here seemed like people who didn’t want to share things they had on their mind, especially with someone who they considered to be an outsider.
Vaur’Kou’n released one of the Atheians, and, again, Kanrel stood next to him against the wall as they stared at either the abyss to the left of them or the Atheian across from them. But whichever way they chose to stare, their gazes would always be pointed inward and never outward; seldom here would people spend time examining the exterior of their worlds when it felt that the interior was so close.
So many questions arise that one might ask, Who am I? Why am I here? Why am I?
Surely a hundred questions with no real answers, but nonetheless, they were questions that one would find themselves asking either way; and if not here, then somewhere else, for such questions would always arise, and humans, and perhaps even then Atheians, would, in the end, find themselves wondering and asking these questions and many more. And perhaps such questions are useless; and perhaps asking such questions only means that the one asking them is much more lost than those who, by heart, already know the answers to them. Perhaps these questions are incorrect altogether, as they might be the wrong questions to ask, but what even are the ”correct” questions to ask? Kanrel had no idea, which is probably why he wondered these questions at this moment.
He also wondered if he might ever get the chance to enter through this edge of the Veil; could he perhaps find the room where they harvest the Globes of Darkness… And how do they do it, exactly?
An hour or so went by in patterns of thoughts, of doubts, and in silence that felt comfortable for some reason. There was no need for words between them. There was no need for anything. But one thing was clear: Vaur’Kou’n was, indeed, very bored. One could blame the silence of his company for this boredom, but who can blame the company if you yourself aren’t initiating any conversations?
But soon enough, the silence was broken by the steps that echoed in the tunnel. The replacement for the other Atheian was on its way. Kanrel glanced at the source of this sound, and far away he could see them, and he couldn’t help but grimace. Mu’u Tou’t, wearing the same black robes he always wore, strode down the tunnel with an unyielding expression on their face; it was as if walking down here was a pilgrimage of sorts, a holy mission that they ought to partake in.
Would they then partake in a confession as well? Kanrel wondered but disregarded the thought. He ought not to place his own assumptions on someone else. It wouldn’t be fair, but then again, it was unlikely that Mu’u Tou’t would do the same to him.
Mu’u Tou’t approached them; they smiled at Vaur’Kou’n and turned their gaze toward the other Atheian. ”You may go.” They remarked, and the other, rather thankful Atheian promptly left without a word of thanks or a goodbye.
Mu’u Tou’t went against the wall across from them; they waited for the steps of the Atheian that had just left to dissipate.
They then pointed their gaze entirely at Kanrel, practically ignoring the existence of Vaur’Kou’n. ”I heard… whispers… of your… conversation… with the… old man…” They spoke in a disappointed tone, emphasizing certain words; they seemed to want to stress the disappointment that they felt toward Kanrel.
Vaur’Kou’n scoffed, ”From where did you hear such things?” He said in a mocking tone.
Mu’u Tou’t glared at the Atheian and grinned slightly. ”We talked, and he told me. He told me everything…” They then returned their gaze to Kanrel and continued, ”The things that you asked him, the many inappropriate questions he had to answer… Everything… He told me everything…”
The other Atheian snorted, ”And is that any of your business, what my grandfather does with our guest?”
Mu’u Tou’t ignored Vaur’Kou’n and just continued ranting, ”You couldn’t just do what I wished of you?” Their voice slightly cracked as anger became so prominent on their face.
”You couldn’t leave us alone, could you?” Their eyes, again, flared with that same mixture of anger and fear that had ingrained itself into Kanrel’s mind.
And Kanrel had no reply. He had thought that such a conversation would hardly matter. So he just blinked his eyes, with no explanations or excuses to give.
Mu’u Tou’t sighed, and the mixture of fear and anger hid itself behind a mask of contempt. ”Why must I take everything into my own hands?” They asked and glared at Vaur’Kou’n, who, for the first time today, seemed somewhat amused, but a grin crept onto Mu’u Tou’t’s face. ”When push comes to shove…” They muttered, and just like that, without a real warning, Vaur’Kou’n fell to the ground, and their eyes rolled over. It was as if they had just passed out, and nothing more.
Kanrel could hear the sound of his only ”friend” within the Sanctuary hitting the floor beneath them; he looked down and saw them, their eyes now closed, their chest still rising, ”What happened?” He asked, with slight panic taking over.
”It is alright. He will awake in due time… It is just that you and I ought to have a good conversation…” Mu’u Tou’t explained as a small but very potent fireball formed next to them.
Kanrel looked at the fire and the Atheian; he was obviously in danger, and the conversation and how it would go was quite obvious already, but even then he felt no fear. He had only been worried that Vaur’Kou’n wouldn’t be able to recover.
”Why? Couldn’t we just have this same conversation with him awake?” Kanrel asked.
Mu’u Tou’t scoffed, ”There are some things that even he isn’t allowed to know… And you did want answers… And you had many questions that the old man refused to answer, didn’t you?”
Kanrel glanced at the fireball. ”And you’re willing to answer these questions that I have?”
Mu’u Tou’t grinned, ”Well, of course… All you have to do is follow me, and you shall learn all that which you so much wish to learn…” Mu’u Tou’t turned their gaze toward the edge of darkness—the Veil—they took another crystal, which they tossed to Kanrel, and without another word, they stepped into the Veil, while holding on to their own crystal… The shadows made way as they walked inside; then they stopped and peered at Kanrel, expecting him to follow.
The ball of fire still lingered in the air where it had been summoned; Kanrel glanced at it a final time, then turned the crystal that he had received on and followed Mu’u Tou’t into the Veil…
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On the other side, there was just more of the same… The tunnel continued but in the darkness of the shadows that moved away in what felt like fear as they went deeper and deeper into the Veil.
Kanrel looked around; the walls of the tunnel were much rougher on this side. They lacked the masonry and precise craftsmanship that the walls did on the other side of the edge. It was, as if, it all had been built in haste, perhaps with sheer magic, as the walls had no bricks in them. They were just solid stone, with no cracks in them. It felt alien to walk down such an empty and unnatural tunnel.
The tunnel led into a larger room. As much was certain, but the shadows veiled much of the room around them, and only when they reached what Kanrel presumed to be the middle of it could he more carefully examine what was around. Four, what seemed like wells or pools… They were filled to the brim with something, a dark substance, perhaps water, perhaps liquid darkness itself… Now, he felt fear; for the first time, he felt afraid, and it wasn’t because of the threat that Mu’u Tou’t could be, but because of this… substance that he could not name.
Mu’u Tou’t had stopped, and they finally turned to Kanrel, who peered into one of the pools of darkness. ”Strange, isn’t it?” They commented, their voice solemn for now.
”It is something we cannot quite explain; even its discovery was a sheer mistake…” They continued, ”And somehow, we found out how to refine it. We learned how to make it into something else than what it is…”
”What is it?” Kanrel asked fear drenching his voice.
Mu’u Tou’t smiled. ”It is… oblivion… It is what the globes outside are made out of…” They explained they seemed to form a spell, and both of the crystals departed from their hands; Mu’u Tou’t forced them to remain in the air so that their hands could be free. The two crystals were like two lonesome stars in the void of night, unable to get near to each other, always apart. Separation as their rule-supreme.
”Do look around, and do ponder the questions that you might want to ask… I will give you an hour, then I must return…” Mu’u Tou’t urged; there was a smile on their face as they did so, one that could be considered more unnerving than even the pools or the Veil that surrounded them.
The room was the one that Vaur’Kou’n’s grandfather had mentioned…
Kanrel swallowed; he had only a few questions that he wished to ask. ”What is the meaning of the Chained Eye?”
Mu’u Tou’t’s smile widened, ”A symbol for those who know the truth… The symbol is… an unofficial symbol of the Universal Truth, as well as the Sanctuary…”
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Kanrel’s brows furrowed. ”Then what is the truth that you claim to know?”
Mu’u Tou’t’s smile became a wide grin; they spread their arms as they spoke, with glee in their voice, ”The Universal Truth? It is here. It is this. It is oblivion; it is… it is… nothingness…” But their expression changed as they spoke; the grin dissipated; it went absent, and in their eyes, there was this… hollowness… and the radiance of the crystals that brought light into their eyes formed a form of hollow radiance, a form of sadness, of despair…
Their voice was solemn as they continued; their voice teetered in between what seemed like sincere fear and agony. ”Kanrel, there will be nothing once we are gone. Nothing.”
”Everything and all will cease to exist at the moment of death, and only a memory of us will remain; it swirls in the collective memory of those who remember you until the day comes when they too die or forget you and who you were…”
”We become… nothing.” They stopped for a moment, letting their words spread and enchain themselves into Kanrel’s mind.
”Dreadful, is it not?” They asked, and then continued, ”And if there is something like this, these shadows that whisper to us about ancient injustices, then that in itself is a failure, for they should be forgotten. They shouldn’t linger as they do. For is there no destiny crueler than this? To be stuck in a limbo of memories that tells the story of your own suffering and the suffering of those you most loved…”
”Kanrel, imagine a genocide, or perhaps an end of siege where thousands have died, be it from direct attacks or indirect things caused by the siege and the enemies at your gates; be it disease or hunger…” Their tone gained some momentum, leaving behind the previous, almost emotionless tone they had.
”Imagine yourself on the day when the siege is lifted. You are saved, but you’ve lost so many. Imagine yourself walking upon the streets of this city, as if a ghost among other ghosts, looking for your loved ones and your neighbors and all of those you once knew…”
They furrowed their hairless brows, sadness present on their gray face, ”Now imagine a child held in the embrace of their mother, both dead and lying amongst the rubble of a broken building. You know, hold that memory of their death with you for all eternity… You can only imagine the pain they have gone through at the moment of death, and you know their desperation before it, for you have felt it as well…”
”And now, Kanrel, imagine at that moment, in the moment of that discovery of an unjust death, over and over again, for all eternity… Won’t you at that moment rather wish for your own death; won’t you wish to forget, to unsee what you have seen, for this torment… this pain, this suffering caused by someone other than you… how can you deal with it? How can you survive it?”
”Kanrel, do not believe the Veil when it whispers to you and claims that they don’t wish to be forgotten… For what they truly want is to be released…”
”They wish for oblivion, for nothing, for the nothingness…”
Mu’u Tou’t’s expression was subdued; although their speech was passionate, there was no resonance to these feelings on their face; instead, there was nothing…
They smiled an empty smile and said, ”This is what I saw…” They again peered at one of the pools on either side of them. ”Within the globes, I saw what you will do…” Their dull expression sharpened as they met Kanrel’s distressed expression.
”But, I’ve said too much, haven’t I?” Mu’u Tou’t chuckled with a strange glow in their eyes, one that was soon eclipsed by the shadow that formed on their face as they grinned, ”No matter… For you, I shall offer the mercy of oblivion as well…”
Hundreds of fireballs appeared out of thin air; they surrounded them, and sudden warmth filled the room encroached by shadows that refused to scour or hide before the magical fire. Only the light of the crystals meant something to them; only the crystals could push them back and keep them at bay. Without them, the Veil would surely devour the two who were destined to die and to see the truth that they might give, the visions they might show.
Kanrel sighed as the fireballs were launched at him, and before hitting him, he simply reflected them with a wind that either perished the fires or launched them into the Veil, disappearing into nothingness as if they had never existed in the first place.
Mu’u Tou’t wore a shocked expression on their face, but that went away soon enough. One could imagine what the Atheian thought at that moment… Perhaps, in their mind, it had become more clear that Kanrel would be the ruin of the Atheian people. They continued launching fireballs at Kanrel, who kept reflecting them without much effort; Kanrel could keep at it for hours if need be. His ability to control magic had become as perfect as it could be; and his stamina as well, surely, the feeling of disgust persisted, but he had learned to mostly ignore it, unless he formed a more complicated code, like one that would nullify magic or create the very manifestation of magic that he had done previously. But the things he now did were things he had learned at the Academy of the Heavenly, now with so much more precision and knowledge than back then. At this moment, Kanrel felt that he could easily best even the most practiced priest of the Priesthood; but the feeling wasn’t good.
After a while of Mu’u Tou’t mindlessly blasting fireballs and some ice spikes, Kanrel decided to go on the offense. It was time to stop being and to take action. It was time to accept that he couldn’t just let these Atheians do as they wished to do to him. If he himself had power, why not use it? Why not defend himself? So he did… In between reflecting Mu’u Tou’t’s spells, he sent out fireballs of his own; these ones were far more potent than the ones that the Atheian directed at him, and as the Atheian had to begin to defend themselves, Kanrel could launch more and more of his own codes at them, and soon enough, the Atheian could only defend themselves, and nothing more.
Mu’u Tou’t began to panic as Kanrel barraged them with spell after spell; the Atheian could not keep up, and they had to retreat step by step, slowly getting closer and closer to the Veil that awaited them to fall into its abyss. They grimaced, and their eyes sharpened with a sudden determination, they had made their mind, and they screamed as they sent, as a last ditch effort, more and more clutter toward Kanrel; small balls of fire, short lances of ice, all which Kanrel blocked or reflected back; one of the lances struck the Atheian and stuck into their arm, they screamed in agony, but even then they grinned; with magic, they grabbed the crystals that kept the room lit; and covered them with stone that grew around, blocking the light, blocking that which kept the shadows at bay; blocked that which kept both of them alive.
The darkness began to flood in, and Mu’u Tou’t laughed as victory was imminent; their death would be enough; he would not have to pay for his crimes toward Vaur’Kou’n and Kanrel; and perhaps Mu’u Tou’t would die as well, but at least he would’ve stopped Kanrel from becoming what he feared the Darshi might become…
But Kanrel was prepared; from within his memory, he formed a code that took so much from him to create—years of his life in deep study and thought—even though it was something that made his skin crawl, that made him feel disgusted toward himself and magic itself… He formed a code to create light that could be claimed to be evil and holy at the same time. He formed a code to let out light that was purer than the light of those crystals, for it was far more corrupt and far more potent than what they could ever produce…
The brilliant light most holy scorched into all directions as the shadows surged upon them from all directions; it burned the Veil away, and as it burned, one could almost hear it screech in agony. Around them formed a barrier made from pure magic.
The Atheian lay on the floor, their eyes agape with shock and awe mixed with dread that could not be unseen. They shivered violently as they whispered, ”It is what I saw…” Then louder, ”It is what I saw.” And louder, ”It is what I saw.” Until they too screeched, ”OBLIVION!” They screamed with all that they had and soon collapsed; no more words left their lips, and Kanrel was left alone with the Atheian, who had just moments before tried to kill him… Mu’u Tou’t was alive, and despite their crimes, Kanrel couldn’t afford to let him die, not here.
Kanrel wanted to puke, but even then he formed a code to pick up the Atheian; he lifted them from the ground and carried them with him as he began navigating their way back to the edge of the tunnel, back to the Edge of Darkness and Light.
And when he returned to that corridor, he took a crystal from his pocket and activated it with magic; he dismissed the unholy light that scorched and made the Veil suffer; and walked with the passed-out Atheian to the other side, where Vaur’Kou’n lay, still holding on to their crystal, against the wall; their eyes still closed.
Kanrel placed Mu’u Tou’t against the other wall and placed the crystal into their hand. He then formed multiple quick codes to heal the wound in the arm; muscle tissue grew back, and soon, there was no wound to be remembered; he then formed another code and sewed the fabric of their clothes back to what it had been before, copying how it was done on the other sleeve. And lastly, he cleaned all the blood off himself and the Atheian.
Once he was finished, he let out a long sigh; he really wanted to empty his stomach onto the floor of this tunnel, but he wouldn’t—not quite yet. Instead, he formed two codes, and water began to collect itself on top of both of the Atheians; then he simultaneously released the water; the ice-cold water drenched the Atheains, and with two bright screams, they were forced awake.
”What in the name of the Ancients!?” Vaur’Kou’n screamed and got up from the floor; he peered at Mu’u Tou’t and Kanrel in turn.
Mu’u Tou’t didn’t say anything; he just stared at Kanrel for a long time, and then he got up as well; they cast a spell and dried their clothes; within their eyes there still remained something; their insanity had passed, at least for now, but there now lay deep, innate fear toward the Darshi; they didn’t say anything as they walked off.
Vaur’Kou’n looked as they walked off. They cast a spell to dry their clothes as well. ”Care to explain? Why was I on the floor? And why am I completely and utterly drenched when I wake up? And what did you do to Mu’u Tou’t?”
Kanrel thought for a moment, and a smile crept on his face. ”There are times when it is better not to know... This is one of those times.”
The last day at the Sanctuary came quickly. Before that, he was under the surveillance of Vaur’Kou’n, who was very curious about what had happened, but each time he asked Kanrel anything relating to that, he got that same smirk as an answer. Kanrel simply refused to tell him what had happened.
Mu’u Tou’t had begun avoiding him completely, and whenever they passed each other in the corridor, the library, or wherever, the Atheian wouldn’t even look at him. They would just pass each other without a word, without a glance, and when Kanrel would look back, he would only see Mu’u Tou’t’s back, as the Atheian would never look back; they just ignored Kanrel’s existence. Which was, perhaps, the best thing that they could do. They had been humiliated. Their vision of the future must’ve now seemed inevitable. They had failed to stop the destruction of their people, and Kanrel wondered if this would become reality; would he, truly, be the one to do such a thing?
Kanrel walked through the room where he had been introduced to the members of the Universal Truth; there were just the two of them and Vaur’Kou’n’s grandfather, who waited for them. He stopped them for a moment. ”I presume you’re ready to leave us with more questions than what you already had?” The old Atheian asked with a smirk on his face.
Kanrel sighed, ”Why ask when you already know the answer?”
The old Atheian shrugged, ”It amuses me. Why else?”
Kanrel just stared at him a moment longer. ”This is it then…” He muttered, ”The last moments I spend within this godforsaken building…”
”I’d hope so.” Vaur’Kou’n commented, ”I for one already had enough of this shit-hole during my studies. You know, you could’ve asked me, and I would’ve warned you of how useless this expedition into the Sanctuary would be for you…”
”No, no… Despite everything, it has been… an eye-opening experience.” Kanrel said and peered at the old Atheian, ”Did you know what would happen?” He asked him.
The old Atheian answered with a slight smile, ”Farewell, Darshi, perhaps we will continue this conversation another day.” He simply said and left without another word.
”What was that about?” Vaur’Kou’n asked.
”Nothing.” Kanrel replied and stared as the old Atheian walked away. Truly, only he had come to see Kanrel go… Not even Mu’u Tou’t had come to see their enemy walk away from the fortress of knowledge they tried to keep Kanrel away from…
Kanrel sighed and turned to the corridor through which he had entered the Sanctuary; he walked onward, this time being the one to lead them.
He had not been outside for a year. It was the same as back then… The engravings, which he now, as far as he could tell, knew to be just something to keep the people who sought entrance wondering what their meaning might be.
He breathed in the air; it was no different than it had been inside. Kanrel had left the forest filled with wolves with more questions than when he had entered it. One of those questions was one Mu’u Tou’t had asked him on the very first day: ”I wonder, will you corrupt us with your lust for knowledge, or will we, in the end, devour you before you devour us?” And it would seem that neither had happened, yet Kanrel wondered if either could still happen. After all, he remained in the Lands of Shadows below…
Kanrel stepped further into the little section in between the walls of the Sanctuary and the Sanctuary itself, and his eyes met the globes… and he couldn’t help but peer into them…
He was… a butterfly with golden wings… It… flew from flower to flower… But there was no sun; there was no light… There was just… darkness…
Kanrel grimaced and forced himself to not look at the Globes anymore, instead, he marched onward, to the gates of this damn place, he stood there some time, as Vaur’Kou’n walked beside him, the Atheian placed their hand upon a crystal that was unlit, the fluttered as his hand met its surface, then gates that had seemed solid moments ago came apart, and they walked out. Kanrel could now leave behind this cave as well, but his thoughts were haunted by what he had seen within the globe… and he tried to disregard those thoughts and feelings, which they forced upon him; a question rose to the top of his mind: Who am I and what will I become?