Chapter 3 Eder #2
“It is, but at least her soul was prepared,” Glasga said. “In many ways, she was blessed, and her fate enviable. Is that not true, Mitra?”
Glasga always used Eder’s currently chosen alias of “Mitra,” unlike the rest of Kaus, which referred to him as Luminary, the title he had adopted when he merged his kingship over the Astral Kingdom with his rule over the Church of Stars.
Given the importance, and secrecy, of the preacher’s task, Eder allowed Glasga this minor form of familiarity.
There was no hiding Madeleine’s disgust, however, for she viewed it as a sign of disrespect.
“There is nothing enviable about their fates,” Eder said, delivering the gentlest of admonishments. “Only joy in the cleansing of their souls. We can celebrate one while acknowledging the difficulty of the other.”
The stairs did not reach the water far below, nor arrive at another enormous jut of hardstone. They simply ended. Hanging from them were the cold cells.
Given the impenetrable nature of hardstone, nails could not be used to secure ropes to the stairs.
Instead enormous blocks of stone were placed near the edge, and it was to them the ropes were tied.
At the end of those ropes were thick burlap blankets, secured from multiple holes so that while three sides of the cell curled up securely, a fourth would always remain open, facing the great expanse.
Those kept within could see the emptiness, the darkness of the far side, and the waters of the ocean below.
When Eder came to power, the previous lord of the tower had used the cells as a form of punishment. Eder halted that on his very first day. He had far loftier plans in mind.
“Raise the first,” he ordered.
“Of course, of course,” said Glasga, and grabbed a metal hook resting on the floor.
The hook was tied to a rope of enormous length, the end of which looped into the final step’s lone structure: a hand-crank crane the size of a man.
Glasga set the hook underneath one of the taut ropes holding an occupied cell, then walked to the crank.
Slowly, amid a clatter of wood and clicking of gears, Glasga turned the wheel.
The hook rose higher and higher with carefully measured speed and strength, bringing the cell up with it.
“Before you begin, I ask that you think of yourself,” Madeleine said as they watched the cell rise. “If this first devout is too much for you, do not continue out of stubbornness or pride. The needs of both church and kingdom are so much more than one soul.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Eder said.
“What we do on these lonely, tiring nights will change the world. We shall shake the foundations of heaven and announce ourselves to Father.” He smiled at her.
“But only if I am strong enough. And I am strong enough. How could I not be, when so many hold me in their hearts and prayers?”
Glasga halted the turning of the crank at the arrival of the cell.
It swung loosely, an arm’s length from the final stair.
Inside was a middle-aged man, fully naked, his head shaved and his body heavily tattooed.
Glasga administered those tattoos himself, back in his little hut filled with an exotic array of tools.
They were a catalog of the man’s worst sins, accumulated over dozens of past lives.
“What is the devout’s name?” Eder asked as he approached the swaying cell.
“Atik,” Glasga answered.
The man looked up, and upon seeing Eder, he began to weep.
“The moon is full,” Atik said.
“It is,” Eder said, and smiled.
“Am I ready? Tell me, are me and all my lives ready?”
Eder offered the man his hand. “Tonight, you shall be free of your past, but only if you hold faith in me, and in Father.”
The devout accepted his aid, and he awkwardly climbed out of the burlap cell to stand naked before the three members of the church. Wordlessly, and still holding Atik’s hand, Eder guided him to the final stair’s edge, and the circle prepared there.
Eder had used melted silver to draw the lines with his own hands, enduring the burns to ensure each and every loop and curve matched his desires.
They represented balance and order, and in its perfect center, a gap for the world of Kaus.
Surrounding it were little droplets that were the stars of the sky, as well as a half circle for the moon.
Eder had forever been fascinated by the midnight canopy, for he could not shake the feeling that it was wrong .
Oh, the stars moved. The sun rose in the east and set in the west. But though he could track the years, his heart refused to accept it.
The math felt simplistic, the movements predictable and dull.
Yet over centuries of watching, tracking, and counting, never did they falter or prove themselves false.
The stars granted him power, and yet they also felt like a lie. The contradiction grated on Eder’s mind, even if his siblings professed no such similar sentiments.
“Stand in the circle’s center,” Eder commanded, and a shivering Atik obeyed. Glasga retreated, content to watch the fruition of his efforts from afar. Eder closed his eyes, gathering his strength. Every life, every soul, was precious, and he could not afford to be reckless.
“My knife,” he commanded. Madeleine drew it from her belt and offered it to him. He took it, felt the metal hilt against his palm. His knife’s familiarity granted him no comfort.
Eder drew in a long breath to gather himself, blew it out, and opened his eyes.
Radiance shone from where his irises should be.
In their dark light, he saw Atik’s soul.
He saw the sins committed against the rules and desires of Father, and not only of this life.
Atik’s soul had been reborn, again and again, the sins of past lives stacked atop one another to form an oppressive weight that marred its pristine beauty.
But sins could be atoned for. It took faith. It took sacrifice. All sins, from all lives.
“Close your eyes, Atik,” Eder said, his free hand wrapping around the trembling man’s neck.
He was so cold, so starved. He’d endured much over the past months since being declared a devout.
Glasga had probed his dreams. He had plundered the memories of his past lives.
Carefully, deliberately, the preacher compiled the sins of multiple lifetimes, and then together, preacher and devout, they performed the necessary penance.
At last, in preparation for this holy night, his soul was clean.
“You are free of any burden,” Eder whispered so only Atik could hear. “You are light as a feather. You are pure as newly fallen snow. Beautiful, devout child of Father, you are beautiful.”
The silver circle beneath them began to glow the fierce white of distant stars.
“You will be reborn no more. This sinful land will not reclaim you. It is to a new place you shall go. To a land free of strife and discord. To where no more sins may burden your soul. Beyond the sky, beyond the stars, awaits Father’s paradise.”
Atik’s knees went weak, and he fell. Eder caught the weeping devout in an embrace, the man’s cheek pressed against his breast. Tears wet the black fabric. Below them, the runic circle began to rotate, the silver flowing as if freshly melted yet refusing to break from its shape and order.
“Your journey is at its end, but only if you can be strong. Do you feel the power flowing through you? Do you feel the holy light ready to carry you?”
“I do,” Atik said, his voice muffled by the robe.
Gently, lovingly, Eder separated them. He wiped away Atik’s tears.
“You must do one thing,” he said. “When the stars claim you, you must shout to them, do you understand? Shout with all your heart. Scream it. Howl it. That is all I ask, in payment for all I have done. Can you do that for me, Atik? Can you bear this burden?”
“I can. I can.”
“Four words. Just four words. Promise me, Atik, or this will all be for naught.”
Atik stared into Eder’s eyes. He showed no fear of the swirling darkness and light within them.
“I promise.”
“Then say them. ‘Father, I am here.’”
Despite Atik’s weakness, despite his nakedness, Eder saw him as the most noble of humans. This was their pinnacle, not titles and wealth and inherited lands. Not material gains. This strength. This belief.
“Father, I am here!”
Atik’s lungs were weak, and his voice hoarse, but it felt like his words echoed louder than the roar of the distant waves below.
“Again,” Eder said. “With a power to wake the heavens. Pierce the firmament!”
“Father, I am here!”
“Again!”
“Father, I am here!”
“Again!”
“Father—”
Eder sliced Atik’s throat. Blood poured across his hands and wet the silver hilt of his knife. He grabbed Atik by the back of the neck, holding him still, as shock widened the man’s eyes and his entire body trembled.
“Do not stop,” Eder ordered. “Even without words. Even after death. Scream it to the heavens with your very soul. Father, I am here. We are here .”
One push, and Atik toppled to the dark ocean below.
The swirling of the silver circle halted in place, every moon and star as they once were.
Eder stood within their celestial lines, gathering himself.
His heart pounded against his ribs. When he looked up, the light of the heavens felt so very far away.
Celebrant Madeleine offered him a white rag, and he absently accepted it.
“My lord…” she began.
“The next,” Eder said, interrupting her. “Bring me the next.”
She swallowed hard and exchanged a glance with Preacher Glasga.
“As you wish, Luminary,” she said.
Eder did not watch them detach the hook from the crane and set it to the next rope. The twisting of gears was a distant noise, one he could not focus upon. Breathe steady. Wipe the blade clean.
One devout purified. Seven more to follow, before the fall of the moon and the fading of the stars into daylight.