Chapter 61 Eder
EDER
E der slowly walked the winding circles of the runestones.
Blood dripped from an open wound across the top of his arm, running down his fingers to drip into the little pail he held.
Within the pail rattled the dagger that had made the cut.
His other hand carried a brush, and with it he painted the last of the runes.
“The answer comes,” he whispered to give himself strength. The last few days had drained him, but there could be no delay. Racliffe’s walls were likely already breached, and soon his siblings’ army would march for the tower.
“Eder,” Aylah said, stirring him from his thoughts. “He’s awake.”
Eder stood, set aside the pail, dagger, and brush, and clutched the wound on his arm. A brief pulse of radiance sealed the cut and ended the flow of blood. That done, he turned about to address his sister.
“Good,” he said. “I want him to be.”
Faron lay on his side not far from the platform that gave access to the Final Ascent.
Behind him, Aylah stood guard, her sword at the ready.
Faron groaned as he sat up on his knees.
The stub of his cut arm was black from where Aylah had burned it to stop the bleeding, and he clutched at it with his left arm.
His fingers felt the burns, and after a moment, he lurched forward to vomit.
“Steady yourself,” Eder said. “You need a clear head for when you witness this first miracle.”
“We’ve already overthrown one mad king in the Tower Majestic,” Faron said, and he spat. “Nothing miraculous about that.”
Eder smiled, glad to see his brother’s spirit remained intact.
“That is not how this day will end.”
He approached the sacrificial bowl and the woman bound before it.
Isabelle’s wrists were tied behind her back with thick white rope, and her arms bound to her sides.
Her ankles were also tied, ensuring she could not flee.
She lay on her back, her mouth gagged. Beside her was a long, rectangular wooden box, still closed.
Above her head loomed the grasping stone hands clutching the tower’s catalyst.
“Even now, a fire burns within you,” Eder said, kneeling beside the queen.
He lovingly brushed his fingers across her cheek.
“But I know the secret of your birth. You are radiance stolen, and it must be reclaimed. Consider this an honor, Isabelle. The failed world shall be broken and made anew, and your blood will be the key.”
“Is that what you think will happen?” Faron asked. His stomach seemed under control at last, and on his knees he glared at Eder. “That somehow you will fix the world?”
“ I will not fix the world,” Eder said. “Have you learned nothing from all our failed attempts? My church labors just to cleanse the sins from a mere handful of chosen devouts. Sariel’s kingdom used both blade and law to enforce a sinless life, and in return, the people rose up in hatred and resentment.
The redemption of an entire world is beyond us, even we who are ever-living. But we need not bear this task alone.”
He grabbed Isabelle and hoisted her to her feet, then bent her so she leaned her chest and head over the lip of the sacrificial bowl.
Faron cried out, wordless and afraid, but the deed would not be done yet.
Eder withdrew his beloved knife from its leather sheath.
So many devouts sent to the heavens with this steel.
If the stars were kind, this would be the last.
“Whatever this world is, it is wrong,” Eder said, leaving Isabelle draped over the stone.
He raised his knife and pointed it to the sky as he approached the center of the runestone formation.
“A facsimile of celestial bodies. A doomed, spiraling loop of sin and death. We are children, flailing outside the sight of our parents, but Father is searching for us. I heard his words. I felt the desire in his heart. He is desperate to find us, to look upon us and return us to his arms.”
Eder imagined the knife puncturing the blue sky above as if it were a canvas he could rip and tear away. What would lie beyond? What joy would he feel when he finally looked upon the face of their Father?
“I know you hate me, Faron,” he said softly.
“I know it will take time for you to forgive me. But I will endure it. All the slings. All the curses.” He smiled at his beloved sister.
“Aylah has accepted the need. Calluna, too, is willing to see the answer to this eternal mystery, for why else would she have revealed to me the key?”
He lowered the knife, and his chest felt light. One last kill. He must burden himself with just one last kill.
“Yours is a kind heart,” he said, turning back to Faron.
“It bleeds with love and aches with loss. But you need not say goodbye forever. Death will become meaningless for everyone, not just us. All souls will be rescued from this cycle of torment. In Father’s gaze, we will be found and made free.
Your grief is misguided, brother, and its pain ephemeral. ”
“You don’t know this,” Faron said. “You don’t know any of this. You tell me only your dreams and hopes.”
Eder closed his eyes and smiled.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But is it not a beautiful dream?”
“Listen to him,” Aylah said, adding her own voice to the plea. “Those few humans you find and love do not erase the horrors that their kingdoms inflict upon one another. They are a savage people, and their cruelty only grows with each life.”
Faron rocked on his heels, his lone hand scraping its fingernails upon the hardstone.
“You of all people would know,” he admitted. “But do not ask me to condemn them. Do not ask me to sacrifice those I love.”
“You need not hold the knife yourself,” Eder said. “Only watch with your eyes open and your mind clear.”
His brother laughed faintly, the right side of his lips curling into a bitter smile.
“And what dream survives the opening of one’s eyes?”
Faron sprang to his feet, slamming his weight into a surprised Aylah. She toppled, and while she did, he dashed for the pail Eder had left behind, snatching the bloodstained dagger within.
“Faron, stop!” Eder shouted, radiance burning brightly upon his hands as he prepared to defend himself. Except Faron did not attack. He rushed to Isabelle, grabbing her and pulling her away from the sacrificial bowl. She leaned against his chest, helpless within her bindings.
“Stubborn fool,” Aylah said, holding her sword in both hands and slowly approaching. “What are you even hoping for?”
Eder gestured for her to keep back.
“Be reasonable, Faron,” he said. “You cannot hope to beat the both of us with a meager dagger wielded in an untrained hand. You have no escape. You cannot stop what must be done.”
“What must be done?” Faron asked. “Are you that determined to see this madness to its end?”
Eder stood tall. With every ounce of his conviction, he answered, hoping that it might be enough to reach through his brother’s stubbornness.
“It is not madness,” he said. “It is freedom, and yes, I am. We will pierce the heavens. We will look upon the face of Father and at long last hear his voice ring clear and true. And for that, Isabelle must die, her blessed blood the catalyst for the Tower Majestic’s great awakening.
That price must be paid, no matter how loudly you gnash your teeth and wail. ”
Faron clutched Isabelle tightly to his chest. His expression softened, and he almost looked ready to weep.
“Forgive me, Isabelle,” he said, and looked down to the queen. “One day you will understand.”
He flung Isabelle with all his might, sending her crashing into Aylah, who had to frantically toss her sword aside lest the queen be impaled. The pair tumbled, a tangle of limbs. Eder shouted, confused, uncertain, but the look in Faron’s eyes, it frightened him. It was too sad. Too broken.
Too final.
“A price paid,” Faron whispered, then placed his head above the clasped hands of the sacrificial bowl and sliced his throat open.
Eder’s eyes spread wide, and he screamed out his shock and denial.
“No!”
This was far from the trickle Eder had used for his first attempt.
A massive gush of blood poured into the bowl, splashing along its sides, and at the contact, the entire tower shuddered.
The runes flared with brilliant silver light.
Eder staggered forward, but there was no stopping this.
The blood ripped out of Faron, draining him dry in seconds.
The light left his eyes. He collapsed a corpse, withered and dry.
“Faron,” Eder whispered, his voice choked with a sob. Not a spark of radiance remained within Faron’s body. He was a husk. Empty. Barren. Never to resurrect. Never to return. The softhearted fool had taken Isabelle’s place.
“Eder, you have to stop this,” Aylah begged, shouting to be heard over the strange humming that grew ever louder from the runestones, whose glow had shifted to crimson. She pushed aside the bound Isabelle, who rolled to a halt in the center of the stone formation. “Make it stop!”
But there was no stopping it. The blood burned, the consumed radiance flaring with a light so bright Eder could not look upon it. He squinted and turned away as the humming reached its crescendo.
A beam of purest silver streaked to the heavens from within the bowl. Its speed was immense, its power unparalleled. It pulsed unending, crossing an unfathomable distance to strike the blue sky. As Eder had hoped, had dreamed, it pierced the firmament to reach the lands beyond.
The sky opened.
At first it was but a small black dot amid the blue, forming a black ring amid the silver beam that was so thin near the top it resembled a piece of thread.
A heartbeat later, the black spread wide, a gaping, colorless hole thrice the size of the moon.
Just looking upon it filled Eder’s chest with warmth.
His eyes watered, for though there was no color and no light, it made him squint as if he were staring into the sun.
On and on the silver beam flared, powered by the blood of his brother.
“Faron,” Eder whispered as he wept. “If only you could see.”
Colors emerged. A ring of red along the edges, curling like fire, followed by pulsing waves that stretched outward across the blue sky as a strange mixture of violet and gold.
Within the center of the black appeared a white dot, and then it streaked down like a meteor.
Eder had no time to react before it struck the center of the runestones, slamming directly into Isabelle’s bound form.
The woman’s body flailed with seizures, and she shrieked so loudly the gag did nothing to subdue her cry. Radiance swam across her, silver and gold, burning her skin before being absorbed within, somehow leaving her unconscious but alive.
Eder had no time to question it, no thoughts in his mind to spare.
A noise like thunder rolled unending from the radiant chasm burning the sky, and from within it swelled a second orb of light, swirling with all the colors.
To Eder’s blessed eyes, it was purest radiance, untainted, untouched by mortal hands, not even those of the ever-living.
It grew and grew, a perfect orb. A tear, swelling within the dark abyss.
A blazing fire, yearning to be unleashed.
And then it fell upon the city of Racliffe, and all was consumed in the glorious flames of creation itself.