Stars' Light, page 40
“Physical embodiment is like picking up a new coat and wearing it until it becomes old and worn out. Then you get another one. It has not happened, until now. I did not think it would work, but it might. There are still many possibilities that could unfold,” The One explained.
“I do not understand. You made all of the rules. You could just make it turn out how you want.”
“Yes, but I will not. What kind of parent would I be if I changed the rules every time I wanted? What would I be teaching you?”
Jorian was silent, and then he smiled. He had this very conversation with his own children when a rule was difficult for him as a parent.
The One spoke. “You have forgotten what you were made with, because you became one of them. You became human.”
“How is that…” Jorian paused, seeing it for the first time. “You asked me to come home, and I chose to stay, to train the next generation. But I refused to come home with each generation that came after. I stayed, and by staying, I slowly took on their demeanor, their thoughts, and their weakness.”
“Not weakness, my son. Strength. Faith is always strength. Humans are spirits that came after you and Azarai. I made them specifically for the physical world. I made you for the spiritual, to have it ready for them, and I must say, I did not foresee this. It has been a great pleasure watching you and the humans grow together. Being one of them, is not a weakness. They are strong. Stronger than you give them credit for; stronger even than your kind.” The One smiled before he spoke again. He was letting Jorian catch up.
“Your kind does not need faith, as you already know me, but humans are made and placed in the physical world without knowing me, and if things work out, eventually, they begin to know me more and more until they will rise up and join us here. They are the secret weapon, and have always been the secret weapon. But the weapon must be trained, which is why I created your kind.
“But there was a wrinkle that I did not foresee. And that wrinkle was you. Even with all of the possibilities at my disposal, I did not see you staying with the humans and becoming one of them, learning about them, caring for them, and ultimately, loving them. I made you special. I made you with all eight Essences. I have been surprised that you have not been able to figure it out. So…” The One smiled broadly, and his eyes came alight with mirth. “I changed the rules. I made it so humans could learn all eight of the Essences, and two… mostly did.”
Jorian was about to speak, but he choose to remain quiet.
“I have been waiting for you to get it, and then you did. With Sarannya, you began to let go of your human emotions, and began to become what you were made to become. You started to see with more than just your senses. You began to use my senses for the first time, which is only part of the Eighth Essence. The other part is the use of my energy, which you already do, but in a limited fashion. I want you to use it in an unlimited fashion. But you must come to an understanding that there is a balance to all things.
“If there is male, there must be female. If there is good, there must be evil. If there is light…
“There must be dark.” Jorian finished the sentence at his father’s prompt. His mind was set aflame with the possibilities. Training that he already knew. Training that he had given to others a thousand times before.
“And now, you are starting to understand. And now, you we have come to the decision.”
Jorian looked back up at the Source. He knew who the One had to be referring to when he said that two mostly learned all eight Essences. “It was Zorian who found it,” he said with a smile. “She wrote about it in her journal, as did Azarai.”
The One shook his head. “Zorian did find the Eighth Essence, but she was never able to actually use it. Because of her arrogance, she misled herself, and that led to the destruction of the Tracian Knights. You could have stopped her, but you did not, and she was not human.” The One pointed to a mosaic that was clearly an embarrassment. “She did not take into account free will. The strands are always moving; always changing. You must learn to have an infinite amount of changes, with no surprises.”
“May I ask who, then?” Jorian frowned. He was completely confused.
“The one you would not train.”
Jorian began to argue. “I trained Eria at Zorian’s request…she was the last…”
“If I recall correctly, you were asked to train another, and you refused. There were some harsh words spoken, and you broke with one of your greatest students. One who learned everything that you could teach at that time. One who could have replaced you and given you exactly what you wanted.”
Jorian looked up at the domed ceiling, his eyes being drawn to the picture of Aeneas. Zorian had trained Aeneas, as he had refused. He had been done with humans and their frailties, and then it hit him. Aeneas could have replaced him? Aeneas could have been the one to have led the Tracian Knights into a new era?
“Aeneas could have led the Tracian Knights, and he would have done it about as well as you by himself.”
Jorian looked from the mosaics to the strong and noble face of his father. It was almost there in Jorian’s understanding. It felt like he was right on the edge of understanding, but it was not quite falling into place.
“I made men and women to work together. To be two halves of a whole. That is why it takes man and woman to create life, and I made it fun to create.” The One paused for a moment, smiling. The smile faded away, replaced by sadness. “The student you refused and broke with, whom I was speaking about, was Saheth.
Jorian’s face went slack. He turned back to the murals. “Ilenka! Ilenka found the Eighth Essence!”
“She mostly did. She sideswiped it, like Zorian. Aeneas was there to help her, and because of his stability, they almost achieved it. But as usual, you know Ilenka. She could not control herself. They found a bastion where the Darkness was hiding, biding its time. You know what I am talking about. You have dealt with bastions before.”
“Yes I have, but there was a whole team of us. A whole unit of Knights.”
“Aeneas and Ilenka destroyed it by themselves. It was an epic battle. They were very impressive in their use of the Essences. They were almost everything that I had envisioned that humans would become — even though, they were not completely human.”
“How is that possible? I should have felt that battle and their use of the Essences,” Jorian said.
The One smiled. “Jorian, the Eighth Essence surpasses your abilities. Even though Aeneas and Ilenka were only using a small part of it, you would not be able to feel it, any more than Kiril and Sarannya can feel you using the Essences. Remember Jorian, you weren’t on the path at that time. You were facing the opposite direction from the light.” He placed his hand on Jorian’s shoulder. “It is time for you to make your decision, now that you’re finally walking your path again. You may stay here, or you may go back to fight this Darkening. I told you, through Azarai that I wanted you to end this Third Age, but things have changed, and new paths have been created. This will not be the only decision you have to make in regards to this. You may not be able to remain for the entire Darkening.”
Jorian took a deep breath. This was everything that he had ever wanted. But what did his Father mean by his words? His heart was torn. He looked up at the mosaics, looking at the pictures of his life. He noticed there was one other mosaic that was shadowed and taking shape. He could see the motes of light floating through the air around him and all through the space. A thought jumped into his head almost of its own accord.
He turned and walked past the One out into the main entryway with the waterfalls flowing over the crystal chimes. He loved waterfalls. Bosc City used to have many of them. It was why he had built the first city there. “This is my house?” He turned back to his father.
“Yes.”
“I do not understand. How can this be my house? The palace of light is for the King of Heaven, Azarai. He was the first. He has the first War Blade, and was the first to ascend home. I do not understand.” He stuttered the last, turning in a circle, taking in the full view of his palace.
“Azarai’s War Blade was not the first. Two blades were made before his. Two blades that I wore in the first battles against the Darkness. Two blades that are unbreakable. Two blades that are part of a whole.”
Jorian glanced down to his father’s hip, his brow furrowed.
“Arturos was not the first to craft War Blades. I was. I crafted them to protect and defend. I gave him mine to use as the model. He did an amazing job recreating them, and then you came. You were different than what I had thought. You were made for war, but yet, you craved peace. You were gentle with those less powerful than you, but you were fierce in battle. I knew that you would need blades that would match. One blade would not be enough for you, so I gave you mine.”
Jorian just stood in mute silence, not quite registering what he just heard. “Lightbringer and Shadow are your blades?”
“No. They have always belonged to you. When I first made them, I felt that I was making them for myself, when really, I was making them for you. You must understand, Jorian, even with the Eighth Essence, you will not be able to account for every variation, every path. That is the amazingness of life and free will. Even when you know, you do not know.” He smiled, pulling the swords from the belt around his waist. Lightbringer’s ties just slipped off as he was pulled free.
Jorian reached out and took the blades as they were offered to him. He took in a deep breath when his hands closed over the sheaths. Their sheaths remained plain with the other fittings on the blade. Jorian smiled. He agreed. The fittings and decorations should remain plain, as they were on the hip of the One. It was a comfort to know his blades were still with him.
“War Blades do not actually die. When the blade breaks in the physical world, they come here, like any other spirit, and I give them a decision to make.” He grew quiet.
Jorian frowned. “I am the King and General of heaven’s forces?”
“Yes, you are.”
“Azarai? Katerina?” Jorian asked, sliding Shadow into his belt. Lightbringer’s ties attached themselves to his belt, and Jorian smiled as both swords settled into their familiar spots on his waist. Everything felt like it was supposed to. Everything was as he dreamed it would be when he came home, other than him being in the Palace of Light.
“They were always meant to help and support you on your journey. And, it has been a long journey for you. You must decide whether to stay here, and I shall finish your training in the Eighth Essence, or you can go back and learn it while teaching Sarannya and Kiril, while rebuilding the Tracian Knights.”
“What will happen to Sarannya and Kiril if I do not go back?”
“Look for yourself. But remember, things will change. It will not flow exactly according to what you see.” The One stood still for a moment, watching as Jorian used his light.
Jorian blinked as Kiril’s and Sarannya’s life strands came into focus. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gain an understanding of everything that he was seeing. It was like looking at a picture that was too big for a person to take in all at once. He focused on what would happen to them during the battle and after.
“They faced Chenda and survived. Sarannya used shadow to heal herself in conjunction with the light, and then Masamiria gave her shadow to accelerate her healing, and to confirm that she was like Ilenka.” He jumped ahead in their strands with the fall of Bosc City. He jumped farther, seeing the second battle for Marpesia, his absence and Aviel’s march across the lands and the destruction of the civil war.
“How do you deal with this?”
A sad smile crossed the Creator’s face. “I must admit that sometimes it is a tad frustrating, but I remember the rules.”
Jorian nodded in understanding.
“Look closer, Jorian.”
Jorian turned back to the strands and attempted to look closer, deeper into the strands and the decisions that were made.
“What do you see? What do you notice.”
“I can see small strands of… light. I can see the light connecting all things,” Jorian whispered back.
They spoke together in unison. “Even in darkness, there is light.”
Jorian’s shoulders sagged. “I do not want to go back,” he said softly.
“I know.”
“I have been gone for so long.” Jorian took in a deep breath.
“I know. That is why I am giving you the choice.”
“If only I could see how things would change if I went back.” Jorian started pacing.
“Only One can do that, but I did leave room for others.” He stood, smiling, watching Jorian.
Jorian stopped and looked back at the One. “So it can be learned?”
“There is nothing that cannot be learned.”
“Natural Perseverance which leads to Natural Transcendence,” Jorian whispered to himself, while looking back at his father.
“Which leads to the Light of Enlightenment.” They spoke in unison.
“You have done more than any other. You have been gone longer and attempted to reach higher.”
“I failed. Imagine how it would have been, had I trained Ilenka and Aeneas.”
“I do not have to.”
Jorian smiled at him. Of course, his father would not have to imagine. If he could learn it, he would not have to either. If he stayed, it would change the nature of Baral and his father’s entire creation. If he went back, he had no idea how it would actually go. There were so many paths, it was overwhelming to even think about.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The divine flow was not about his flow, but the One’s. It was not about his decision, but the One’s. What was that decision? He opened his eyes to look into the One’s brown eyes, and took notice of the rough beard and the slight grey in it. He already knew what the decision would be. Sadness clouded his face.
The One nodded his head with a half smile. “Now, you are starting to learn.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sarannya walked along the top of the wall. She was wearing a heavy cloak, and her hood was up against the cold. Soft rabbit fur lined the rim of the hood, keeping her warm. The hilts of War Bringer and Retribution stuck out through the slits in her cloak, designed specifically for drawing swords. She snuggled deeper into her cloak against the cold.
A light snow had begun to fall, and Lubos was walking next to her. He, too, was bundled up against the cold. He wore a constant scowl, and growled whenever any of the other soldiers got too close to her. Her entire unit had been waiting outside of the Silk Stocking when she stepped outside, having finished her coffee. It was a moment she would never forget. They had all stood at attention and saluted her.
She had not known what to do. Lubos had gently told her to salute back, and so she had. Her unit was silent, and they gave her a wide berth as she made her way through them. When she spoke to them, giving them orders for the night, they had bowed their heads in deference. They were almost reverent of her. It was something that she was not comfortable with.
Sarannya smiled at all the light that was around her. The stars were shining brightly, but she noticed there were fewer of them. She wondered if all of the stars would eventually go away, or if some would remain. So much change in such a short amount of time. Her thoughts were interrupted, seeing movement on the tree line. She caught the gold sheen of horns.
Her breath steamed about her. She knew the enemy was watching her. She paused, noticing movement as a long figure stepped out of the trees in full view, and just stood, staring out at the wall. His golden horns caught the starlight. He was dressed against the cold, and there were two hilts protruding from his cloak.
Sarannya tensed when she realized that he was looking directly at her. I’m waiting for you, she thought to herself. Her eyes opened wider when he bowed his head in response to her thought and moved back into the trees. She stood for a moment longer, and then continued her walk along the wall, in deep thought until she was relieved by Masamiria to get some rest.
Sarannya had slept fitfully for three hours. She was up before the sun, bathed, and her hair done. When she came down to brew the coffee, Kiril was already sitting at the table with two cups and a single lantern lit.
Kiril watched her come down the stairs in silence. He felt different after using Wrath to drive off the remaining four Fallen. Something had changed in him on the inside. He felt like he was connecting with the Essences differently. He had not had a moment to speak with Masamiria about it, but he planned on it. He also planned on mentioning it to Jorian, if he survived long enough.
Sarannya sat down at the table next to Kiril and smiled. She took the coffee from him as he slid it to her. “Thank you. Very kind of you.”
“How do you feel after such a long night, and not a lot of rest?”
“I’m tired, and I didn’t sleep very well last night,” she said. She took a sip from her coffee and smiled. “This is soooo good.” She closed her eyes and took another sip, soaking in the aroma of the brew. “You make the best coffee. How do you do it?”
Kiril smiled at her. “A trade secret of mine. I might tell you someday.”
Sarannya laughed. “Is this how you get all the girls?”
Kiril took a deep breath, and was about to speak, but he was stopped by Sarannya.
Sarannya pursed his lips and put her right hand up in surrender, holding her coffee cup in her left. “I didn’t mean that in a bad or mocking way. I meant it in a sincere way. I’m surprised that I have never seen you with any of the girls in this place. They were all clearly sweet on you. They were all clearly smitten with you.”
Kiril gave a half smile. “I have never been really all that comfortable around girls. Most girls only wanted to be around me for my station, and my family’s wealth. I have also always been focused on the sword. I haven’t had a lot of time to be with girls. They seem like a distraction from what I really need to be doing.” His mouth turned down. He took another sip of his coffee, and a comfortable silence deepened between the two of them.
